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EXPERIENCES 
ANjD OBSERVATIONS BY THE WAY 




J. (i. Davenport 

70 YEARS OLD 



EXPERIENCES 

AND OBSERVATIONS 

BY THE WAY 

An Autobiography Published by Special Request 



By 
JOHN GAYLORD DAVENPORT, D.D. 




THE PILGRIM PRESS 

BOSTON CHICAGO 






Copyright 1917 
By JOHN G. DAVENPORT 



n^r o 



EC 27 1317 



THE PILGRIM PRESS 
BOSTON 



©CI.A48J 17:-; 



TO THE TWO CHURCHES THAT HAVE STOOD BY ME SO 
LOYALLY AND WROUGHT WITH ME SO EFFICIENTLY, 

THESE REMINISCENCES 

ARE GRATEFULLY 

AND AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED 

BY THE AUTHOR 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Childhood and Youth 1 

II. College and Seminary 31 

III. My Bridgeport Pastorate 53 

IV. My Waterbury Pastorate 81 
V. General Observations 137 

VI. Days at Clifton Springs 187 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

J. G. Davenport 70 Years Old Frontispiece 

OPPOSITE PAGE 

J. G. Davenport 10 Years Old 10 

The Park Street Congregational 

Church, Bridgeport, Conn., 54 

J. G. Davenport 30 Years Old 64 

The Second Congregational Church, 

Waterbury, Conn. 102 ^ 



EXPERIENCES 

AND OBSERVATIONS 

BY THE WAY 



CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH 

While scarcely egotistical enough to 
imagine that any large number will care 
to read a sketch of my comparatively ob- 
scure and uninteresting life, I am yet too 
accommodating to refuse to furnish it at 
the request of various brethren and 
friends. Of course it can be but a 
"sketch," as a multitude of matters come 
into every one's experience which he 
would be neither able nor willing to write. 
Only the Omniscient has a complete rec- 
ord of one's existence. When "the 
books" shall be "opened," may the eras- 
ing hand of Mercy be swept across their 
contents, blotting out such entries as the 
Recording Angel may have penned with 
tears. 

If, as we may believe, "every life is a 
plan of God," the divine thought regard- 

1 



Experiences and Observations 

ing it must be operative centuries before 
it appears on the earth, even when the 
first from whom one is descended begins 
to live. If one stops to consider the mul- 
titude of those from whom he has drawn 
his life, his soul is moved with gratitude 
toward some of them, the result of whose 
self-control and well-doing he shares, and 
is filled with a mad desire to go back and 
inflict deserved punishment upon such as 
have infused bitter and poisonous drops 
into his blood. I say this while by no 
means a fatalist and believing fully that 
the human will, in its normal condition, is 
capable of overriding native tendencies 
and the influence of surroundings. We 
can each say with Henley: 

"I am the master of my fate, 
I am the captain of my soul." 

The earliest identification of my ances- 
try is in the case of one Orme de Daune- 
porte and of one "Gaillard," whose 
families had come into England from Nor- 
mandy with William the Conqueror in 
A. D. 1066. Their descendants can be 
traced, largely through Puritan lines, 
until the Eev. John Davenport appeared 
in New Haven in 1638 and Deacon Wil- 
liam Gaylord in Windsor, Connecticut, in 
1636. From the former I am descended in 

2 



Childhood and Youth 

the eighth generation and from the latter 
in the seventh. It came about, either for 
better or worse, that I was a scion of min- 
isterial stock, both my father and mother, 
as well as myself, having been born upon 
lands given to colonial pastors in the way 
of " settlement. ' ' How much that fact 
had to do with determining the course of 
my life I do not know. But, as we are 
aware, family traditions, working through 
the years, are more or less potent. 

On awaking to consciousness I found 
myself living in a roomy old farmhouse 
of the colonial type, in the country town 
of Wilton, Connecticut. The roof of the 
house, in the rear, sloped down nearly 
to the ground, while its front opened 
westward upon a broad dooryard, shaded 
by two immense elm trees said to have 
been set there by my grandfather Gay- 
lord in 1777. The home was on elevated 
ground which gradually passed down to 
the level of the highway, the street con- 
necting the villages of Norwalk, five 
miles south, and Danbury, sixteen miles 
north. In the home were my father and 
mother, two sisters, six and eight years 
older than I, and my mother's mother, 
an aged, silvery-haired saint who took it 
upon herself largely to care for "the 

3 



Experiences and Observations 

baby." I can feel now the softness of 
her cheek as I kissed her, and hear the 
sweetness of her gentle voice as she sang 
and talked to me. For some part of 
every day she sat in the fireplace and 
smoked her pipe, which I was told she 
did to relieve a troublesome cough. 
Whether or not the cough was relieved 
I do not remember, but the smoke that 
escaped the chimney threatened to pro- 
duce a respiratory difficulty in my boy- 
ish throat. When I was six years old 
she passed out of life, her departure oc- 
casioning the first sorrow that I knew. 
With her last strength she placed a 
large Spanish silver dollar in my hand, 
telling me to keep it to "remember" her 
by. This I did for several years. 

One of the earliest remembrances of 
my childhood is of being taken by this 
aged grandparent to an upper chamber 
in my father's house and kneeling by her 
side while she earnestly prayed that I 
might grow up to be a Christian and a 
Christian minister. I must have been 
between five and six years old, and had 
but the slightest idea, of course, of what 
the petition implied. But the language 
lingered in my mind like "a nail fast- 
ened in a sure place," associated with 

4 



Childhood and Youth 

that large sunny room into whose open 
windows drifted the fragrance of lilac 
blossoms. For like Daniel this old lady 
prayed with her windows "open," and 
against those windows hung the purple 
clusters of the lilac. The words of that 
prayer went with me into later boyhood 
and remained with me during all my 
youth. 

The old home of my childhood is now 
an unoccupied ruin. The windows 
through which I looked out upon life 
have been removed, as has much of the 
internal economy of the house. The 
yard upon whose velvet sward I used to 
play is largely overgrown with neglected 
shrubbery. Yet in memory the place 
stands neat and attractive as of yore, 
the rooms comely with ancestral furni- 
ture and glorified by the presence of 
those whose love made it home indeed. 
Every one of these long since found, as 
we trust, the home of the redeemed. It 
is a singular fact, deserving of psycho- 
logical study, that during all the subse- 
quent years, that abode of my childhood, 
left half a century ago, has in my dreams 
been home. So lasting are early impres- 
sions, wrought it would seem into the 
very substance of the soul. 



Experiences and Observations 

As I recall my childhood it seems to 
me that I was one of those boys that are 
of value, if at all, rather as a future 
possibility than as a present possession. 
Exceedingly fond of books, I would steal 
away into some quiet place and read, 
rather than engage in the activities that 
the farm life demanded. I distinctly re- 
call indulging in "Robinson Crusoe" in 
this manner, and of taking "Gulliver's 
Travels" and the "Arabian Nights," vol- 
umes somewhat frowned upon by my Puri- 
tan guardians, and reading them back of 
the barn, or on the haymow. My father's 
woods were not far away and it was my 
delight to wander among the trees, listen- 
ing to the whispering of the leaves and 
the songs of the birds, and feeling my- 
self far from the world, in special com- 
munion with the invisible but potent 
forces there at work. A kind of poetical 
furor sometimes seized me and I must 
express my lofty emotion by pen or 
voice. A river across my father's mead- 
ows greatly attracted me, and by it, or 
in it, I spent many an hour when I might 
better have been at work. Sometimes 
with a chosen boy companion I roasted 
apples or corn in the woods and we had 
a feast there by ourselves. I was more 

6 



Childhood and Youth 

interested in raising rabbits than in 
milking cows, and in gathering wild 
flowers than in cultivating the garden. 
Evidently I was a dreamy, good-for-noth- 
ing sort of boy rather than a practical one. 
A recent poet * says that his youth was a 
lily. Mine was, for "I did neither toil 
nor spin." 

My education began in the "little red 
schoolhouse" which stood across the 
street and nearly opposite my father's 
house. I very well remember sitting in 
the teacher's lap to learn the letters of 
the alphabet and their simplest com- 
binations. Here I attended school until 
I was about eleven years old, when I be- 
came a day scholar in the boarding- 
school of my future brother-in-law, 
Augustus Whitlock, whose establishment 
was a quarter of a mile below my home. 
The district school employed various 
teachers in my time, with two or three 
exceptions, men of mature character. I 
recall but two women teachers in the 
course of the seven or eight years. Fre- 
quently through the winter the men 
boarded at my father's house, so that I 
had the advantage of their acquaintance 
and companionship, to some extent, out- 

1 Rabindranath Tagore. 



'Experiences and Observations 

side the schoolroom. The winter term 
was usually enlivened by what was called 
;an " exhibition, ' ' an event of great im- 
portance to the pupils and the entire 
district. For it preparation was made 
long beforehand. A stage was built at 
one end of the schoolroom and suitably 
curtained. Before a crowded house dia- 
logues were there spoken, brief dramas 
enacted, orations delivered and songs 
sung. When about six years old I had 
the honor of commencing the exercises 
of such an occasion by rendering the 
then familiar address: 

" You'd scarce expect one of my age 
To speak in public on the stage; 
And if I chance to fall below 
Demosthenes or Cicero," etc. 

Not fully grasping the significance of the 
words, when giving the third line I 
pointed downward to the floor, and ex- 
claimed "Demosthenes or Cicero,' ' as if 
it were an interjection! I strongly sus- 
pect that my first oratorical "flight' ' was 
not altogether a success, although the 
applause that followed was music to my 
childish soul. 

I think it was on that same evening 
that the feat of William Tell in shooting 
the apple from his son's head was per- 

8 



Childhood and Youth 

formed, the archer standing upon the 
platform and the "son" with the big 
apple balanced upon his head in a little 
entry at the other end of the room. We 
saw the arrow as it sped, but nothing 
more of it until it was triumphantly 
brought in, transfixing the apple, and 
TelPs victory was declared complete. 
The interest aroused by these simple 
performances was great, and a new de- 
votion to the school was at once mani- 
fested by both teacher and pupils. 

It was our custom at the beginning of 
winter to build a dam and flood one 
of my father's meadows, thus securing 
a skating pond that was well patronized 
during the entire season. Moonlight 
nights found boys and girls in great 
numbers flying from one end of the pond 
to the other, some of them hand in hand, 
or perhaps four abreast, in the enjoy- 
ment of such exhilaration as it stirs one 
merely to remember. Sometimes a fire 
would be kindled near the ice, at which 
chilled hands and feet were brought into 
normal condition. One of my summer 
delights was that of driving the cows in 
the dewy morning to pasture in a lot 
that we owned a mile and a half away 
and of bringing them home at night, the 



Experiences and Observations 

faithful old family mare, with a sheep's 
skin thrown over her back, bearing me 
to and fro and apparently- entering into 
the sport as fully as did her rider. In 
the haying season it was my pleasure to 
accompany the workmen to the fragrant 
fields and to share the delicious drink 
that a large stone jug contained and the 
"harvest cake" that they always took 
to regale themselves with under the 
shade of some neighboring tree. The 
raking after the cart, the duty assigned 
me, was a comparatively unimportant 
part of the program. 

In the district schoolhouse near my 
home the minister of the Congregational 
church, a mile and a half away, would 
hold an occasional service "at early 
candlelight, ' ' as the announcement was 
always made. The neighbors would at- 
tend, each carrying his tallow candle, 
and these were set at various points 
about the room. I remember sitting 
upon one of the benches with my feet 
swinging, while the clergyman dis- 
coursed in a manner that was usually too 
profound for my boyish understanding. 
Occasionally a temperance meeting would 
be held in the same place, addressed by 
some one from out of town. At its con- 

10 




J. G. Davenport 

10 YEARS OLD 



Childhood and Youth 

elusion pledges were passed about and 
I always signed my name as soon as I 
had learned to write it. Frequently on 
the day of the religious service the pas- 
tor of the church would visit the families 
of that section in the afternoon, taking 
tea with one of them and then proceed- 
ing to the schoolhouse. Sometimes he 
would announce beforehand that he would 
call upon the families "for religious con- 
versation." This was always alarming 
to the youngsters and we sought in many 
ways to avoid him. The barn, with its 
haymows, was my favorite resort at such 
times. One of my friends went to spend 
the afternoon somewhere out of the dis- 
trict, but unfortunately the minister was 
late and she returned before his call! He 
was so very late on that occasion as not 
to reach our home until the hour for 
service had arrived, and I was saved 
from the necessity of hiding. 

The Episcopal Church was half a mile 
nearer than the Congregational, and 
some of us connected with non-Episcopal 
families were fond of attending its prin- 
cipal services. Especially fond were we 
of the Christmas-eve celebration, when 
the little church was fragrant with hem- 
lock and running pine and bright with 

11 



Experiences and Observations 

its central chandelier of clustering can- 
dles. The sixtieth of Isaiah with its 
reference to "the fir tree, the pine tree 
and the box together to beautify the 
place of my sanctuary," which I, of 
course, supposed to describe the decora- 
tions of the church, was always read at 
that service and was very impressive. I 
never read it since without inhaling the 
breath of those forest greeneries. In the 
middle of the service the clergyman 
walked down the central aisle to his 
robing-room near the door, dressed in 
snowy white, and after a little returner] 
in his robe of black silk and with great 
dignity swept back to his place in the 
-chancel. The effect of this ceremony upon 
my youthful mind was great. The Con- 
firmation service, too, always appealed 
strongly to my love of the august and 
the beautiful. 

Although my ancestors, for many 
generations, had been prominently con- 
nected with the churches of the Puritan 
faith, my parents at the time of my birth 
were not regular church attendants, and 
it was not until I was eight years old 
that I went up to the house of God and 
became a member of the Sunday school. 
That same year the Rev. Gordon Hall, 

12 



Childhood and Youth 

son of the famous missionary of the 
same name, was ordained in the old 
home church, and I remember attending 
the service in a crowded house and sit- 
ting upon certain stairs in the gallery. 
The proceedings, with their variety of 
participants, I thought quite imposing, 
although the most of the addresses were, 
to me, incomprehensible. It never oc- 
curred to me, a timid little fellow for 
whom there was no room in a pew, that 
I should ever be the center of such a 
ceremony. Mr. Hall was a tall, spare 
man of very great solemnity in the pul- 
pit, and as I supposed in his entire life. 
One day I saw him driving with his 
family and laughing heartily. This, to 
me, was almost incredible. On reaching 
home I told my mother with breathless 
haste that I had seen Mr. Hall laughing! 
She was amazed and amused at my 
surprise, and asked: "Why, don't you 
suppose that he ever laughs?" Really, 
I did not. He seemed to me as solemn 
as a church steeple, or a cemetery monu- 
ment, and I should almost as soon have 
expected one of these to laugh. Of 
course my childish view of him was a 
mistaken one, as I understand that he 
was one of the most genial of men. But 

13 



Experiences and Observations 

in the pulpit he was so tremendously 
serious as to frighten me, and I think 
others of my age. I still remember some 
of his sermons which impressed me and 
destroyed my comfort for weeks at a 
time. One of these was from the text, 
"0 that they were wise, that they under- 
stood this, that they would consider their 
latter end." In a striking manner he 
spoke of a youth beginning well, but 
gradually becoming absorbed in worldly 
matters and neglecting religious duty 
and thought upon the higher things, until 
we look for him in vain. He has gone, 
every opportunity for repentance forever 
lost. When we passed out of the church 
the beauty of the summer day was dark- 
ened and it seemed to me that it would 
never again be bright for me, so fearful 
was the responsibility of living. 

A few weeks afterward, the minister 
announced one forenoon that by special 
request he would repeat in the afternoon 
that very sermon. I had but just re- 
covered from the first assault upon my 
emotions, and the second renewed the 
pain in full measure. Why any one 
should wish a second rendering of that 
same dreadful discourse I could not un- 
derstand. There were other sermons of 

14 



Childhood and Youth 

his that had a similar effect. At one 
time he preached what seemed to me a 
powerful sermon upon the Judgment 
Day. In dramatic manner he described 
it in all its imposing features, and set 
apart by themselves those whom the 
Judge found unprepared, telling of the 
woe that would be theirs as their friends 
of the other class bade them good-by, 
forever! I always thought of myself as 
one to be cast out, and I remember on 
this occasion thinking that I had one 
friend who I thought might hold fast 
to me and keep me safe. Of course I 
wanted to be of the number of the good 
and accepted, but in those days it was 
not for a child to belong to the church 
with all that that implied. He must wait 
for certain mysterious experiences to 
come to him, and these would never be 
known unless he were of the elect, and 
that was a matter that could not be pre- 
determined. I remember hearing a very 
intelligent lady say that if she were to 
be a Christian she would be, and it made 
no difference what she did or did not do. 
That was the spirit that seemed to pre- 
vail, as I often in my boyhood heard it 
expressed, in one way or another. 
I speak of these things that we may 
15 



Experiences and Observations 

understand the progress that has been 
made in views of the religious life since 
these early days. Possibly I was mor- 
bidly conscientious and imaginative, but 
certainly the preaching that I heard and 
the conversations regarding the Chris- 
tian service, were all calculated to repel 
rather than to attract the young. Very 
little, if any, endeavor was made to win 
the children and youth. When I was ten 
years old there was a great revival of 
religious interest in the church and three 
members of my immediate family came 
into its fellowship. I was greatly inter- 
ested and desired to attend some of the 
services, but was not permitted. I was 
"too young." I must "wait until older." 
As I think of it now, it seems to me that 
the attitude of Christians toward the 
rising generation was not only mistaken, 
but actually cruel. The sheep must be 
tenderly cared for, but the lambs left to 
themselves to get on as they could! And 
all the while One was saying, "Suffer 
the little children to come unto Me and 
forbid them not." 

Life in those early days was much 
simpler than it is at present. Ours was 
a fairly well-to-do family, but many of the 
things which we now deem essential were 

16 



Childhood and Youth 

luxuries then, if known at all. For ex- 
ample, until I was a dozen years old 
such a thing as a silver fork was un- 
heard of. When these now indispensable 
articles of table furniture appeared, they 
were the subject of much merriment. 
" Split spoons" my father called them, 
and spoke of the pleasure he should take 
in using them while eating peas. The 
old steel two-tined forks, that were all 
that our ancestors for several generations 
could boast, greatly encouraged the habit 
of eating with one's knife, which was a 
very common thing with our immediate 
predecessors. Silver spoons, however, 
were much in evidence, often engraved 
with the initials of both heads of the 
family as if there were rivalry or jeal- 
ousy as to ownership. A table napkin 
was a great rarity. I remember that an 
aged relative of ours from the village of 
Norwalk, which possibly was further ad- 
vanced in civilization than the adjacent 
country, when visiting us always used a 
corner of the tablecloth in place of a 
napkin. What he would have done if 
seated midway of the table I do not 
know. 

In preparing the meal all the eatables 
to be served were placed together upon 

17 



Experiences and Observations 

the table. Too frequent change of plates 
was not indulged in. In daring defiance of 
modern temperance principles the pitcher 
of cider, sweet or sour, usually the latter, 
had its place upon the board and was 
well patronized by the men fresh from 
the fields. In the kitchen of my old 
home was a fireplace large enough, as 
used to be said, for stabling a horse. In 
this hung the " crane,' ' with various 
hooks for the accommodation of pots and 
kettles in which many choice edibles were 
cooked. A relative, who afterward be- 
came a member of Congress, told me 
that when his future wife first saw him 
he was sitting in this fireplace upon a 
basket of cobs! At one end was the 
great " Dutch oven," which, two or three 
times a year, would be heated with a furi- 
ous fire, and when the coals had been 
carefully removed, quantities of meat, 
pies, cakes and various concoctions were 
thrust into the yawning space, to be 
taken out after an hour or two cooked 
"to a charm." They were "such things 
as "mother used to make." 

Of course only "the light of other 
days" was available in the evening, the 
candle carefully dipped or run in a 
mould, standing in a polished brass can- 

18 



Childhood and Youth 

dlestick, with the inevitable snuffers and 
tray close at hand. After a time "burn- 
ing fluid' ' was introduced, closely resem- 
bling water in appearance, but furnish- 
ing an illumination that was something 
of an improvement upon that of its 
predecessor. For the matter of trans- 
portation the "one hoss shay" was very 
commonly used, although not built to last 
for a hundred years. Horseback riding, 
too, was common with both ladies and 
gentlemen. For almost all the farm 
work oxen were used, and among the 
farmers "them cattle' ' furnished the 
theme of many a long dissertation. I 
well remember when the first locomotive 
came through my native town. Eobinson 
Crusoe said, according to the poet, 

" The sound of the church-going bell, 
These rocks and these hills never heard." 

So of our rocks and hills we could say that 
the puffing and whistling of the engine 
were to them unknown voices until 1851. 
The excitement occasioned by that first 
locomotive was marked, both with men 
and beasts. It was the introduction of a 
new order to that country town. My first 
railroad ride was from one Wilton sta- 

19 



Experiences and Observations 

tion to another, about three miles, and 
I stood by the door the entire way lest I 
should be carried beyond my destination. 
I remember that I paid five big copper 
pennies for that initial ride. "That's 
enough,' ' said the smiling conductor. 

In my thirteenth year there came to 
me an immeasurable and irreparable loss 
in the death of my father, at the early 
age of forty-one. He was a warm- 
hearted, genial, busy farmer, an intelli- 
gent reader of the New York Tribune 
and the Norwalh Gazette, interested in 
current events and devoted to his family. 
His guardianship and advice would have 
meant very much to the developing boy. 
The sense of desolation that followed his 
departure was very oppressive, and has 
often returned as I have gone into the 
homes that had met an affliction similar 
to our own. It is a sad thing for a boy 
to grow up without a father's love and 
care. 

When fourteen years of age I applied 
for the mastership of one of the district 
schools of my native town, and was ap- 
pointed its teacher for five months! It 
is hard to understand how the parents 
of the district could have been foolish 
enough to entrust the instruction of their 

20 



Childhood and Youth 

children to one so young and poorly 
fitted to teach. 

In my fifteenth year the Wilton Acad- 
emy, which had been founded by Mr. 
Hawley Olmstead, and under his care 
had attained a wide reputation, was re- 
opened by his son, Edward Olmstead, a 
graduate of Yale in the class of 1845, 
who had come to Wilton after a success- 
ful experience as rector of the Hopkins 
Grammar School in New Haven. His 
opening day found me in my place, one 
of the score of youths who waited for 
his guidance. He was at this time thirty 
years of age, dignified and yet genial, 
impressing us with the value of culture 
and inspiring us all with love for classi- 
cal study. His work in Wilton, contin- 
ued for more than forty years, was of 
vast benefit to the town. Hundreds of 
young men and women found in him a 
wise director in matters of education and 
all the broader interests of life. Per- 
sonally I feel myself under greater obli- 
gations to him than any language can 
express. The thoroughness that he de- 
manded and inculcated gave me a mental 
impulse that has remained during all the 
years, while his exaltation of classical 
learning left with me a lasting impres- 

21 



Experiences and Observations 

sion. The awe with which I regarded 
him as a teacher melted into the warm 
affection of later decades. Sacred to me 
is the memory of Edward Olmstead. 

At the close of my first year at the 
Academy, an invitation came to me to 
assume a clerkship in a store in Stam- 
ford, whose proprietor had been one of 
our Wilton young men. This seemed to 
me a providential opening, for although 
exceedingly fond of reading and study 
I shrank from any possible position in 
life that would bring me into conspicu- 
ousness. An undue diffidence oppressed 
me and tended to restrain me from any 
extended pursuit of learning. At this 
time the suggestions of my grand- 
parent's prayer possessed very little 
attractiveness. To be a minister was of 
course an honorable thing, — for minis- 
ters, so far as my observation went, were 
worthily respected and esteemed and 
some of them were influential and be- 
loved. But for a timid, bashful boy, 
whom declamation always appalled, and 
who shrank like a sensitive plant from 
any sort of publicity, the practical duties 
that the ministry involves were repulsive 
I would not be a minister. No one, not 
even the Almighty in answer to a some- 

22 



Childhood and Youth 

what presumptuous prayer, should direct 
me into a course that so repelled me. 
Instead of this I would enter upon a 
business life in which, through close ad- 
herence to Christian principles and 
methods, I would serve humanity and 
prove my allegiance to the great Master 
whose adorable name I had already 
learned to honor. That invitation to 
Stamford favored my decision and 
surely had in it the intimation of a 
divine thought regarding my life. I en- 
tered joyfully upon the work to which I 
was thus called and found satisfaction 
in the feeling that I was already begin- 
ning a career for which I was well 
adapted, and in which I could employ my 
powers away from the embarrassing 
gaze of unsympathetic assemblies. How- 
ever, one memorable day the steed that 
I was accustomed to use in the delivery 
of goods was disabled, and I was re- 
quired to carry, on my arm, for perhaps 
three-quarters of a mile, a half bushel 
of succulent and savory vegetables whose 
pungent odor had always offended me. 
I was met by the wife of a laborer upon 
the railway who inhabited a little 
"shanty" near the track. She assailed 
me in the most bitter manner for my 

23 



Experiences and Observations 

tardiness, addressing me by names to 
which I by no means felt myself entitled. 
While she railed at me in this vehement 
manner, like a flash came to me the 
thought, "I will do something better 
than carry such articles of merchandise 
to such people." Before her tirade was 
ended my carefully laid plans were scat- 
tered to the winds, and I had fully re- 
solved that I would return home and 
complete my preparation for college. I 
may thus say that literally my life 
turned upon an onion! Although the 
vegetable so highly esteemed by many is 
to me still repulsive, in view of the part 
in my career that it has played, I think 
that when I devise my coat of arms I 
shall give it a conspicuous place! 

My return from that important errand 
was in a very different mood from that 
in which I entered upon it. Slowly wend- 
ing my way I allowed the past of my life 
to pass in review before me, and it 
seemed to me that every step had been 
leading toward a different service from 
that to which I had tried to give myself. 
The grandparent, who had left the world 
more than a decade before, again spoke 
to me, and the words of her prayer 
clearly sounded through the wintry air. 

24 



Childhood and Youth 

The considerations which had led me to 
disregard their bearing seemed to have 
lost their force and I wondered how it 
was that they had ever influenced me. A 
new and absorbing desire for a liberal 
education possessed me. After a little I 
laid my newly adopted plan before my 
astonished employer, who proved sympa- 
thetic and willing to release me. And so 
I went back to my native town for two 
more years at the Wilton Academy. 

Those years I still number among the 
happiest of my life. Our honored teacher 
was inspiring and the company that 
daily gathered about him were mutually 
congenial. With delight we wandered 
through the fields of classic lore, plucking 
choice blossoms as we moved along. Com- 
positions were laboriously constructed in 
which we settled many a question that 
has vexed the ages. Declamations were 
still given with trembling knees and 
throbbing heart, but none of them proved 
fatal. The great revival of 1857-8 began 
to manifest its remarkable power. Its 
sweet and persuasive influence was felt 
by the members of the Academy. The 
teacher's morning prayer became more 
and more earnest and tender. Soon 
noon prayer-meetings were instituted in 

25 



Experiences and Observations 

the school. Heaven swung low: prayer 
seemed almost inevitable: some of the 
pupils were moved to remarks that were 
simple and heartfelt. The noon hour 
brought us into sympathetic touch with 
each other and with the Friend divine. 
Conversation regarding religious mat- 
ters was freely participated in. Mr. 
Olmstead presented each of us with a 
copy of Doddridge's "Rise and Prog- 
ress, " of which we made something of a 
study. As the spring and summer fol- 
lowed, many of us came into the fellow- 
ship of the Church and were tenderly 
cared for not only by our teacher but by 
the young pastor, Eev. Charles B. Ball, 
whose beautiful exemplification of Chris- 
tianity, in the position he held, continued 
for only a year, when he was called to 
his reward. None mourned him more 
deeply than the company of youth whom 
he had led through the green pastures 
and by the waters of peace. One morn- 
ing Mr. Olmstead, without any previous 
intimation of his purpose, called upon 
me to offer the prayer at the opening of 
school. It was a trial to do it in his 
presence, and unintentionally the sugges- 
tion of Ecclesiastes was followed: "God 
is in heaven and thou upon the earth: 

26 



Childhood and Youth 

therefore let thy words be few." After- 
ward several of the pupils were called to 
a similar service, a trying but perhaps 
a helpful experience. Many sacred and 
fondly cherished memories cluster about 
the room that now exists only in our 
thought, the upper story of the Wilton 
town hall, where for many years the ses- 
sions of the Academy were held. It is 
as dear to us as that famous spot near 
Athens was to the pupils of Plato, "the 
Academy,' ' where he taught his philos- 
ophy to a devoted group. 

I am tempted to linger a moment over 
the memory of some of my schoolmates in 
the Wilton Academy. There was Eugene 
Smith, valedictorian of Yale in 1859, 
afterward a prominent lawyer of New 
York City and active in various social 
reforms. His wife is Katherine, a 
daughter of Dr. Leonard Bacon of New 
Haven; Lewis Gregory, a classmate of 
mine at the Academy, bright and keen 
above the average, graduating at Yale in 
1864, and becoming a pastor, first in West 
Amesbury, Massachusetts, and then for 
very many years pastor of the First 
Church, Lincoln, Nebraska; Clarence L. 
Westcott, his classmate at Yale, a prom- 
inent and successful lawyer in New York, 

27 



Experiences and Observations 

brother of Mrs. J. G. Davenport; Samuel 
Keeler of Yale, 1867, another New York 
City lawyer; Coley James, for some time 
a student at Trinity, afterward a jour- 
nalist, editor for a long time of a paper 
in Thomaston, Connecticut; Benjamin L. 
Hubbell, a student of medicine, then a 
business man, at one time Mayor of 
the city of Derby, a genial and lovable 
man; Frederick D. Benedict, a student 
at Yale and at Danville Theological 
Seminary, for many years a deacon in 
the old home church; John EL Hurlbutt, 
for some time a student at Trinity, de- 
veloping into a successful teacher, a very 
ardent Episcopalian who ought to have 
gone into the ministry; Strong Comstock, 
a graduate of Yale in 1867, a broad- 
minded and greatly esteemed teacher in 
New York state and in Connecticut; 
Arthur A. Barrows, musician, physician 
and teacher, receiving, in his class at 
Yale, the "Wooden Spoon," as the most 
popular man of the Class; Hobart Pink- 
ney, who always amazed us with his 
rapid recitation of Latin. 

On the other side of the room was a 
galaxy of Wilton girls, several of whom 
graduated at college and more of whom 

28 



Childhood and Youth 

became happy wives and mothers, filling 
a worthy place in the communities where 
they lived, carrying their classical train- 
ing into the complicated activities of life, 
the wiser and better wherever they were 
for those studious years in the Wilton 
Academy. In several instances the fel- 
lowship of school days ripened into the 
sweeter and holier fellowship of mar- 
riage. In the homes thus established 
traditions of the Academy were sacredly 
cherished, and the beloved teacher was 
one of the household gods. 

At Mr. Olmstead's death in 1898 the 
Wilton Academy ceased to exist, to the 
deep regret of such of us as had known 
its value. The Connecticut academies of 
former days have been superseded by 
high schools and by possibly improved 
methods, but they did a work that left a 
lasting impression for good upon the 
towns which they uplifted and enriched 
by their influence. They induced many 
to seek a liberal education who would 
otherwise have thought it impracticable 
or undesirable. The writer may be par- 
doned for stating that in the old Wilton 
Academy his father and mother as well 
as his wife and himself found enlighten- 

29 



Experiences and Observations 

ment and inspiration whose worth to 
themselves can never be measured. And 
from that center impulses toward 
broader and better life went forth into 
all the land and the world. 



30 



n 

COLLEGE AND SEMXNAEY 

My college preparation was for Yale, 
at which various of my ancestors, kins- 
folk and acquaintances had graduated. 
But just before the beginning of the fall 
term of 1859, there came to my native 
town upon a visit to relatives, a winning 
youth with whom I became somewhat 
intimate, Mr. Alexander Moss Merwin. 
He was a sophomore at Williams, and 
gave me so charming an account of Wil- 
liamstown, with its mountain scenery and 
its invigorating air, and especially of 
that intellectual and moral giant of the 
hills, Dr. Mark Hopkins, that I began to 
turn my attention toward the institution 
in Berkshire County. Probably the fact 
that the Eev. Mr. Ball, who represented to 
me all that was winning and desirable in 
Christian manhood, was a graduate of 
Williams, as was his predecessor in the 
Wilton pastorate, the Eev. Thomas S. 
Bradley, increased my interest in that 
college. And so, after due consideration, 
I chose it in preference to Yale, and Sep- 

31 



Experiences and Observations 

tember 8, 1859, made the long journey to 
the famous mountain town, and on the 
following day, having easily passed the 
entrance examination, was duly enrolled 
as a member of the Class of 1863. 

That class contained in all eighty- 
three pupils, of whom only fifty-seven 
took with us the degree of Bachelor of 
Arts. Less than two years after we en- 
tered college the flag upon Sumter was 
fired upon and the Civil War greatly dis- 
arranged things even in our secluded 
mountain home. Sooner or later thirty- 
three of our men in some capacity served 
the Union in its fearful struggle for the 
maintenance of its integrity. Our Class 
motto, suggested by Mr. Edward P. Roe, 
afterward the well-known writer, was 
"Andrizesthe," "Quit you like men," 
and it is our boast that the great major- 
ity of the class have illustrated its mean- 
ing in their life. Perhaps, as compared 
with some others, our class was not a 
"brilliant" one, but it contained many 
hard workers in college and since, men 
of broad minds, aspiring, altruistic 
and patriotic. Not a few of them have 
filled large places in the life of their 
generation. Twenty-two took a theolog- 
ical course, nineteen chose the legal pro- 

32 



College and Seminary 

fession, while ten have sought to heal 
humanity's ills. Business in its vari- 
ous departments, journalism, educational 
work and official service have each 
claimed its quota. One could not have 
desired for himself more sensible or 
agreeable companionship than they af- 
forded. Dear fellows! What delightful 
memories are associated with every name ! 
At this writing (1917), only twenty-one 
of them are left upon the earth. "0 the 
lost, the unf orgotten ! ' ' 

Those four years in the enchanted, 
mountain-girdled valley, with their con- 
genial work and their charming fellow- 
ships, possess in the retrospect an attrac- 
tiveness that earth can never again equal, 
partly because youth can never come 
again. In due course of time the sheep- 
skin with its purple ribbon was received 
from the hand of Dr. Hopkins. On the 
evening of graduation day I addressed 
to my mother the somewhat grandilo- 
quent words: "No longer an ordinary 
individual, but with the added dignity of 
i Bachelor of Arts,' I sit down to address 
you. I feel like a lone sailor driven on 
a wild, wide sea. for prosperous 
winds and a safe harbor in the distance ! ' ' 

On graduation day at Williams it was 
33 



Experiences and Observations 

niy privilege and honor to deliver the 
Salutatory Oration, speaking, as the cus- 
tom then was, in Latin. The established 
order to be pursued in this was to ad- 
dress first the President of the college, 
then the Faculty, the Trustees, such dis- 
tinguished guests as might be on the 
platform, the Alumni of the college, 
the ladies in the gallery, and lastly all 
others present. Recently, by accident, 
I discovered my manuscript and after a 
little study was able to translate the 
most of it! Possibly a few quotations 
might be acceptable to those familiar 
with the Roman tongue. 

In addressing the Governor of the 
state, the Hon. John A. Andrew, Massa- 
chusetts' great war governor, I said: 

"Gubernator, excellens, nobilis, tua 
presentia honoramur. Laeti te, ex pul- 
veria arena vitas publicae ad has quietas 
umbras, accipimus. Gaudemus credere 
salutem esse patriae, nam aliter hie non 
esses. Quum patria timore clamavit, 
quum inimici perfidiosi ejus cor petive- 
runt, quum ruina minata, haec respublica, 
te duce, prima ei succurrit. Nobiliter 
egit. Natio gratias agit, et dea Libertas 
vocat gubernatorem suum fidelem culto- 
rem. Ita dicere videtur, 'Ille, ille in 

34 



College and Seminary 

meis angustiis me non deseruit. Indus- 
tria, studio, alacritate, mihi subvenit. 
Ergo in meo triumpho ad dextram meam 
stabit. Eum lauris perennibus corono.' 
Et ex his liberis montibus et vallibus 
voces innumerabiles vocant, 'Ita esto.' " 

In addressing the ladies who crowded 
the galleries, I said in part, "Ubi gen- 
tium sumus? Unde tarn multse puellse et 
tarn formosae? Jamjam gubernatori 
hujus reipublicae allocutus, nunc guber- 
natoribus mundi compello. Quare alter- 
cantur puellae de femineis juribus? 
Nonne satis est vivis omnibus imperare? 
Aliquid vos peto. Id concedere magnam, 
magnam abstinentiam requiret. Hoc est, 
vos non loqui. Semel, gratia varietatis 
ne loquamini sed audite. Benigne ora- 
toribus adspicite. Eos risibus lenibus 
remuneremini. Si vobis copia, floribus. 
Plus dicerem, sed locum minus publicum 
preferro. Abeo, autem, si liceat, ad vos 
veniam. ' ' 

After the address a couple of bouquets 
were kindly presented me, one of which 
Governor Andrew lifted from the plat- 
form and placed in my hands, thereby 
making it, in my estimation, vastly more 
valuable. As showing how fully the 
Latin was understood, a gentleman said 

35 



Experiences and Observations 

to me, "That was the wittiest piece of 
Latin that I ever heard." And my use 
of the word "jamjam" ("already"), in 
referring to the ladies thronging the gal- 
leries, was adduced as part evidence! In 
fact, however, no pun had been intended 
or thought of! 

In the address to the Faculty I re- 
ferred to one of the professors who had 
died during the college year. His widow 
presented me with a large and beautiful 
bouquet in half mourning, white and 
purple flowers only. 

A lady from Springfield, whose 
daughter afterward married my room- 
mate, A. P. Foster, honored me with a 
kiss, saying, "I'm going to kiss you for 
your mother. " It was very gracious of 
her, for none of my kin were present. 

Commencement was held in the old 
church, at the western end of the village, 
which was burned two or three years 
afterward, and has been succeeded by a 
beautiful colonial building in the center 
of the town. As the old church was 
burning, one of the students was escap- 
ing with the door of a pew. ' ' pudor ! f ' 
exclaimed one who saw him. 

However, the question of a profession 
was not yet settled. Several months be- 

36 



College and Seminary 

fore graduating at Williams, I received 
an invitation to take charge of a clas- 
sical academy among the Catskill moun- 
tains, thirty miles west from the Hudson 
river. The town of Jewett was originally 
settled from Wallingford, Goshen and 
Guilford, Connecticut, and its inhabi- 
tants, shut in by the everlasting hills, 
were more like the early dwellers in New 
England than at that time were the 
people of New England themselves. 
They were great readers of theology, Dr. 
Emmons with his modified Edwardsism 
being their favorite author. They dis- 
cussed theological points in their families 
and the social circle, and differences of 
opinion were at times marked and forci- 
bly expressed. It was a singularly pious 
community, almost every family contain- 
ing its altar of prayer, while the church 
services were largely attended, farm- 
wagons driving up on Sunday morning 
with parents and children even to the 
latest comer, in the summer the farmer 
often in his shirt-sleeves, and this at- 
tired taking his seat in the church. The 
babies sometimes lifted up their voices 
in the service, making a "joyful noise" 
or otherwise, but no one was disturbed. 
The old Calvinistic doctrines were dis- 

37 



Experiences and Observations 

cussed at length in the Old School Pres- 
byterian Church, and re-discussed on 
Sunday evening in the homes of the 
people. The New England regard for 
learning which they retained led them to 
maintain an Academy in that seemingly 
unpromising place. 

After considerable reflection I had ac- 
cepted the invitation to take charge of 
the Academy for a year, largely that I 
might have time and opportunity to 
make a decision regarding my life work. 
The head of the Academy was naturally 
regarded as the leader of the young 
people in social, educational and relig- 
ious matters. He conducted their prayer- 
meetings, led the singing school, sang in 
the church choir, was a welcome visitor 
in all the homes of the community and 
shared in all their decorous merry-mak- 
ings, including drives in the summer to 
the mountain houses and "sugaring-off" 
in the winter and spring. In this leader- 
ship a certain satisfaction was found, and 
it was impressed upon the teacher that 
possibly, after all, he might possess some 
qualifications for exercising it on a 
larger scale, even as the pastor of a 
church. Perhaps he might help human- 
ity in that way more than any other. So 

38 



College and Seminary 

far as he remembers, here was the first 
real leaning of soul toward the work that 
was to occupy his future life. 

Meanwhile, the activities of the Acad- 
emy went bravely on. Two young men 
took the studies of Freshman year and 
at length entered Williams, while many 
others did something in the way of prep- 
aration for college, or for life in other 
fields. It was my good fortune to board 
in the family of the postmaster and mer- 
chant of the town, with whom I found a 
charming home. Mr. Alfred Peck, the 
head of the family, was one of the orig- 
inal abolitionists and prohibitionists, who 
was always ready in a positive and good- 
natured way to contend for his principles 
in the face of whatever opposition. He 
was as patriotic as devout, and on the 
Fourth of July, 1864, when our national 
affairs were in a dubious condition, he 
said in his morning prayer, "0 Lord, let 
not this nation go down," when emotion 
overcame him and his prayer ended in 
sobs and tears. He was a strong man, 
one of " nature's noblemen.' ' My year 
in Jewett was an admirable supplement 
to the college course and left memories 
and gave me friends that are still fondly 
cherished. In a sense I "found myself" 

39 



Experiences and Observations 

among the Catskill hills. And as now 
and then I pass up the Hudson river val- 
ley, those hills seem to me touched with 
a peculiar radiance, the soft, suggestive 
light of days long gone. 

In the following autumn, with some 
lingerings of reluctance and of doubt as 
to whether or not there was in me any- 
thing of ministerial "timber," influenced 
somewhat by the wishes of a godly 
mother and of certain beloved and de- 
voted classmates who had already chosen 
the sacred calling, as also by suggestions 
that had been with me from childhood, I 
entered Union Theological Seminary and 
a course of study for the ministry was 
begun. The institution then occupied the 
old five or six story building on Univer- 
sity Place. Dr. H. B. Smith and Dr. 
R. A. Hitchcock were its dominant 
spirits, with the venerable Dr. Skinner 
in the background, in his refined and 
beautiful personality a shining illustra- 
tion of what one might ripen into with 
advancing years. Aside from the studies 
of the Seminary, which for some reason 
failed to impress me very deeply, it was 
a privilege to spend the year in New 
York City, where great preachers were 
heard, art galleries were visited, historic 

40 



College and Seminary 

localities were sought out, fine concerts 
and lectures were listened to, and occa- 
sionally a famous actor was seen, as 
Edwin Booth in his masterly rendering 
of Hamlet. 

It was the closing year of the Civil 
"War, and many matters connected with 
it were exploited in the great city. In 
April, 1865, came the assassination of 
President Abraham Lincoln which 
stirred New York to its depths. The 
streets were filled with excited and angry 
people. Tears were on many cheeks. 
Men spoke from the steps of houses and 
were surrounded by throngs that ap- 
plauded every word of hatred for the 
South and that threatened retaliation. 
For it was then supposed that the South 
in the bitterness of its defeat had 
planned the murder of the gracious Pres- 
ident. General Garfield in the lower part 
of the city said to a group that asked of 
him a speech, "God reigns and the Gov- 
ernment at Washington still lives." A 
great flag rose from the Stewart building, 
with fourteen stripes, the lowest broad 
and of deepest black. The sight of it 
awakened anew the grief of the people. 
'Quickly mourning emblems took their 
place upon public and private buildings. 

41 



Experiences and Observations 

Mottoes of various sorts, quotations from 
Lincoln's addresses, appropriate sen- 
tences from Shakespeare and other poets, 
expressions of love for the dead Presi- 
dent and of sorrow for his "taking off" 
appeared in many places. Pictures and 
busts of the great man were displayed in 
many windows. And all these were 
gazed at through the tears of thousands 
of mourners. 

About a week afterward the body of 
our fallen chief came to New York and 
lay in state for twenty-four hours in the 
Governor's Eoom of the old City Hall. 
A choir of a thousand male singers 
chanted dirges from the broad steps of 
the municipal building. The people were 
soon admitted to view the face of the 
dead. For several hours some of us 
from the Seminary struggled to reach 
the gate but were swept away by the 
eager mass before we could enter. Com- 
ing again among the small hours of the 
following morning we succeeded. I en- 
tered twice with the processions that 
from opposite directions ceaselessly 
passed the casket. The face looked as 
we are accustomed to see it in the pic- 
tures, although sunken and sallow. It 
was a touching sight that one witnessed 

42 



College and Seminary 

in that chamber of death where only the 
tread of the grieving and their sobs and 
bitter exclamations could be heard. The 
casket was heaped high with choicest 
flowers and the mound of beauty and 
sweetness was continually enlarged. 
People of all grades of society and of 
various races and ages were there, and 
all alike testified to the profound esteem 
in which the dead man had been held. 
Early in the afternoon of the following 
day funeral services on Union Square 
were attended by countless thousands. 
From a fence on the south side of Four- 
teenth Street, I heard all that was spoken. 
The illustrious Bancroft gave a fine ad- 
dress, classing Mr. Lincoln with the 
noblest statesmen of this and of other 
lands, crowning him with laurels fully as 
lustrous as those worn by the immortal 
Washington. William Cullen Bryant, 
who had just passed his seventy-first 
birthday anniversary, sent a noble poem 
that was recited by some gentleman 
whose name I did not learn. And then 
while the church bells were all tolling 
and minute guns expressed the profound 
emotion of the people and dirges were 
played by the bands, the form of the il- 
lustrious chief was borne from the city 

43 . 



Experiences and Observations 

on its way to Albany and toward its final 
resting-place in Springfield, Illinois. On 
Union Square where the Lincoln monu- 
ment now stands a structure had been 
reared from which one read, "Good- 
night, and flights of angels wing thee to 
thy rest." It was the voice of thousands 
as they tearfully sped the visitor on his 
way. 

In connection with these events won- 
derful sermons and other addresses were 
delivered, some of which it was my priv- 
ilege to hear. A notable one was the 
discourse of Henry Ward Beecher, on the 
second Sunday after Lincoln's death. I 
remember with what feeling he quoted 
from the forty-fifth Psalm, applying the 
words to him we so admired and mourned : 
"Thou lovest righteousness and hatest 
wickedness: therefore God, thy God, hath 
anointed thee with the oil of gladness 
above thy fellows." In my mind those 
words are forever associated with the 
martyred President. That place in my 
Bible is as sacred as his tomb. Only in 
one sermon did I hear anything of the 
spirit of retaliation. Dr. Hitchcock of 
the Seminary read the account of Sam- 
uel's treatment of Agag, king of the 
Amelekites, who said, "As thy sword has 

44 



College and Seminary 

made women childless, so shall thy 
mother be childless among women. And 
Samuel hewed Agag in pieces before the 
Lord in Gilgal." The preacher shocked 
his congregation by expressing the idea 
that possibly the United States had 
failed in not showing sufficient severity 
toward those who had plunged the nation 
into war. Under the excitement of the 
time it was natural to say things which 
sober reflection would scarcely approve. 

Forty years after I had gazed upon the 
face of the dead President it was my 
privilege to conduct Admiral Dewey to 
the spot where the illustrious sleeper lay 
and recount to him the events of that 
memorable night. He lingered by the 
place and seemed touched by the memo- 
ries it evoked. 

That year in New York, whether or 
not it added much to my theological 
equipment, w^as a most important one in 
my experience, leaving impressions 
which are as abiding as influential. At 
the close of the academic year I left the 
Seminary intending to return in the au- 
tumn. But soon after reaching home 
there came to me an invitation to a 
tutorship in Williams College. This 
opened up before me the prospect of un- 

45 



'Experiences and Observations 

expected advantages, and it seemed best 
that I should accept it. Accordingly I 
made again the familiar journey to the 
Berkshire Hills, but with a very different 
feeling from that of which I was con- 
scious when as a homesick boy I had first 
gone thither. Although in a humble 
capacity, I was to become a member of 
the Faculty which I had always regarded 
with something akin to fear. The Latin 
which I was to teach was a favorite 
study and the mathematics that would 
demand something of my attention I 
could manage even without loving them! 
And so it was with real joy that early in 
September, 1865, I looked again upon the 
beautiful town with its mountain guard 
that I had left two years before. The 
Faculty gave me cordial welcome, and 
the Freshman Class received me with all 
the cordiality that I could expect. 

The two years that I spent as tutor 
were enjoyable and helpful in many ways. 
I came to know somewhat intimately the 
Rev. Dr. Mark Hopkins. As a thinker 
he w^as clear and profound, in statement 
lucid, as a teacher Socratic, leading his 
pupils to think for themselves and point- 
ing them to vistas of truth which they 
became eager to enter. He was just a 

46 



College and Seminary 

little too early for the evolutionary 
hypothesis, which, knowing but little 
about it, he was inclined to dispute. And 
yet all his teaching involved that idea 
of development which is the soul of evo- 
lution. With all his greatness he was as 
simple as a child, companionable with the 
humblest, continually living as one who 
sees the Invisible, and possessing so 
much of that indefinable quality known 
as "magnetism" as to draw those asso- 
ciated with him into close bonds of sym- 
pathy and affection. He seemed the 
embodiment of that Benevolence which 
he taught, having an especial love for 
his pupils. If one of them proved un- 
true to his obligations and the younger 
men thought expulsion the only remedy 
for the situation, tears would run down 
his cheeks as he asked if they had 
done everything possible for him, and as 
he promised to carry out the sentence 
that had been voted. 

It was my privilege during a good 
part of the two years, in company with 
six or eight of the younger professors 
and other graduates, to pursue a course 
of theological instruction under Dr. Hop- 
kins' direction. We met in his study for 
an hour each evening, meanwhile reading 

47 



Experiences and Observations 

the works that he had suggested, and 
discussing theology in the most familiar 
manner, our learned philosopher illumin- 
ing the subject under discussion out of 
his own glowing soul, bringing logical 
force and an affluent imagination to 
the elucidation of every obscure point 
Those were hours long to be remem- 
bered, ambrosial nights, in which our 
great leader left upon us an imperishable 
impression. The instruction was supple- 
mentary to Dr. Hopkins' course in the 
Assembly's Catechism, which made the 
Saturday mornings of Senior year bril- 
liant and attractive, so that many a one 
said that he there gained the foundation 
of all his theological belief. This was, of 
course, a somewhat desultory manner 
of studying theology, and I fully in- 
tended after leaving Williams to return 
to the Seminary, but Dr. Hopkins per- 
suaded me not to do so, and in accepting 
his advice I probably made a mistake. 
While tutor, in company with my college 
classmate, Charles R, Treat, I was licensed 
to preach by the North Berkshire Asso- 
ciation, the homely and humorous Dr. 
John Todd of Pittsfield subjecting me to 
the usual storm of questions. It amazes 
me now to remember that on seven Sun- 

48 



College and Seminary 

days I preached in the college chapel to 
pupils and Faculty, no doubt greatly en- 
lightening the distinguished men who sat 
at my feet! My licensure was dated at 
Pittsfield, March 5, 1866. The ordeal 
was passed in the parsonage of the 
South Church of that city. 

Certain other members of the faculty 
endeared themselves to me by their great 
kindness, especially Dr. Carter, a native 
of Waterbury. All of them were ready 
to assist the inexperienced instructor. 
Each of them afforded a unique study in 
human nature. Association with them 
was a kind of second college course. 
Other companions of that time have been 
valuable lifelong friends. Among them 
was Hamilton W. Mabie, until recently 
of the Outlook, who was for a year my 
table associate. Not long ago he wrote 
me, " Those early days with which you 
are associated in my mind are very dear 
in my memory. They are years of high 
hopes and generous friendships. Life 
may not have realized the individual 
hopes; it has certainly not disappointed 
spiritual expectations. The lyrics say 
that it turns to ashes. The real truth is 
that it has grown so vast that we seem 

49 



Experiences and Observations 

inadequate to the opportunities of growth 
it offers." 

I remember that one day as we dined, 
conversation turned upon the profession 
that those present should choose. I think 
that Mabie mentioned his intention of 
studying law. Thereupon Treat, of my 
class, said to him, "I know what you 
ought to go into — literature." Evidently 
he saw in him the qualities that have 
since given him international distinction. 
For although he studied law, literature 
was the pursuit of his life. 

Some of my pupils have given me 
cause to be glad and proud of their suc- 
cess. Among them were Dr. Judson, 
President of Chicago University; A. C. 
Chapin, sometime Mayor of Brooklyn 
and member of Congress, and generous 
benefactor of the college; John B. 
Thacher, who became a leading politician 
and Mayor of Albany; T. Chalmers 
Murray, Professor at Union Seminary 
of Hebrew Language and Literature; 
Francis E. Leupp, late Indian Commis- 
sioner; Bishop Johnson of the Episcopal 
Diocese of Los Angeles; Professor Henry 
W. Smith of Princeton; Dr. James S. 
Cooley, a noted physician of Mineola, 
New York, and various others. It was 

50 



College and Seminary 

a privilege to know these in the fresh- 
ness of their youth, and possibly to have 
given them just a little impulse toward 
the goal they sought. Our relations since 
their graduation have been cordial. They 
seem to remember "Tute" with some- 
thing of affection. Teaching under such 
conditions as I found at Williams proved 
exceedingly interesting and absorbing. 
A later President told me that if I would 
study a year in Germany he would give 
me a permanent professorship. The 
offer was attractive, but I felt more 
forcibly drawn in a different direction. 
Williams honored me with the degree of 
A.M. in 1866 and of D.D. in 1893. 

During the last year of my tutorship 
one of the most important events of my 
life occurred, viz., my marriage to Miss 
Alice Westcott of Wilton, whom I had 
known for many years. She spent the 
winter and spring terms with me in Wil- 
liamstown and was cordially received by 
the ladies of the Faculty and of the vil- 
lage. For nearly forty-five years she 
was my loving companion and helper, 
and if I have gained anything of success 
in life, half of the credit, at least, belongs 
to her. She died Nov. 6, 1911, after 
twenty years of pain and disability 

51 



Experiences and Observations 

which were borne with remarkable cour- 
age and cheerfulness. She left me lonely, 
but seems to beckon me on toward the 
fulfilment of the higher hope, the hope 
"full of immortality. ' ' 

At the close of the college year we re- 
turned to our native town, and as the 
pulpit of the Congregational church 
chanced to be vacant, I was invited to 
preach to my old friends and neighbors. 
It was a somewhat strange experience, 
attempting to instruct and inspire those 
who had known me from a boy. But 
they were kind and indulgent. One lady 
said, "The last sermon you preach we 
always think is the best." The words 
are a little ambiguous, but her meaning 
was plain, and I appreciated it. For four 
months I officiated in the old church of 
my childhood, into whose membership I 
had entered less than ten years before. 



52 



Ill 

MY BRIDGEPORT PASTORATE 

In the fall of 1867 there came to me a 
unanimous call to the church in North 
Greenwich, where I had preached for 
three Sundays. A committee visited 
Wilton to urge its acceptance. But we 
did not wish to leave home at that time 
and it seemed best to decline the call. 
The people there were exceedingly gra- 
cious and I can never forget my visits to 
their village on those beautiful September 
Sundays. Their memory shines through 
the years with a peculiarly attractive 
radiance. 

I recommended to the people, as a 
better man for them than myself, a col- 
lege friend, the Rev. William P. Alcott, 
first cousin of Louisa Alcott, the noted 
writer. He accepted their call, and on a 
cold day in February, 1868, I went to his 
ordination as a lay delegate from the 
Wilton church. Sleighs met us at the 
Greenwich station for the six mile drive 
to North Greenwich. It chanced that I 
entered the vehicle that held as one of 

53 



Experiences and Observations 

its passengers the Rev. Dr. Rankin, pas- 
tor of the church in Fairfield. During 
the journey he remarked that people 
wish old men everywhere except in the 
pulpit. Said he, "Last week I met a mem- 
ber of that new church in Bridgeport, and 
he said, i We've got to have a young 
man.' " Impulsively I replied, "You 
might recommend me." And he said 
that he would. I thought but little of 
it, but within a week or two I received 
a letter from Deacon A. L. Winton of 
that "new church,' ' asking if I would 
preach for them on the fifteenth of 
March. I accepted t^ invitation. The 
church was just two months old on the 
day that I first saw it, and its forty-four 
members and their families worshiped in 
a hall built for the use of the Bethesda 
Mission Sunday school. It was a chilly 
day, snow covering the ground, and the 
entire aspect of things struck me as 
somewhat frigid and repellent. The 
'people however greeted me cordially and 
in the evening the audience was of very 
good size. 

At the close of the second service a 
retired minister of Bridgeport came up 
to the platform and, introducing himself, 
asked me abruptly, "What do you think 

54 




The Park Street Congregational Church 

Bridgeport, Conn. 

First Pastorate of J. G. Davenport 



My Bridgeport Pastorate 

of the labors of an evangelist, such, for 
example, as John D. Potter?" I replied 
at once that no doubt there was a place 
for the evangelist, but that I did not be- 
lieve in a church's depending upon any 
such outside help for the maintenance of 
its life and growth. Evidently my an- 
swer was not acceptable to the ques- 
tioner. I learned afterward that he said 
to one of the deacons, "We have enough 
of that spirit in town already." I was 
not invited to return. But during the 
week a letter came asking me to occupy 
the pulpit on the following Sunday. I 
did and at the conclusion of the service 
was asked to become pastor of the 
church. After an interval of one Sunday 
I went back and remained thirteen and 
a quarter years, having been ordained 
there Jubr 1, 1868. Every one of those 
who participated in the ordination ser- 
vice has gone, the last survivor having 
been Rev. George A. Pelton, who died in 
1914. 

Those years of labor in the Park 
Street Church, Bridgeport, the church of 
my first love, tested all the powers of the 
inexperienced pastor, demanding a vast 
amount of constructive work. But it was 
work as delightful as difficult. There 

55 



Experiences and Observations 

was a peculiar exhilaration in building 
not upon another man's foundation, but 
upon such as one had himself laid in 
shaping a young and plastic church in ac- 
cordance with one's own ideas. The 
people were willing to be led. There 
was no division among them. A kind of 
family affection pervaded the member- 
ship. All were warm-hearted and ear- 
nest, ready to make sacrifices for the 
church, counting it all joy to have some 
part in upbuilding the Kingdom of God 
as it was there represented. There was 
scarcely a communion that did not bring 
us additions on profession of faith. If 
one member were afflicted, all suffered. 
A peculiar tenderness was felt and mani- 
fested toward the sick and sorrowing, 
and never was relief given more eagerly. 
The people, for the most part, were 
verging into middle age, with their for- 
tunes yet to make, not wealthy but fairly 
prosperous in business. We built and 
paid for a sanctuary at an expense of 
about $25,000, and never had a house of 
worship wrought into it more of real 
consecration to Christ and His cause, 
more of loving devotion to the high and 
holy. I remember that one of the dea- 
cons said to me, "My wife says that we 

56 



My Bridgeport Pastorate 

need some new parlor carpets, but I told 
her that we couldn't have them this year 
for we are building a church." That 
simple incident indicates the spirit and 
temper of the people as a whole. An- 
other little occurrence exhibits it. A few 
years after we began our work together, 
the Society, for a year or two, had fallen 
slightly into debt. The committee asked 
me to preach upon the matter of respon- 
sibility for the finances of the church. 
Accordingly just before the renting of 
the pews I gave a simple talk, and in 
trying to show what church fellowship 
meant to us, I drew a picture of how it 
would be if the church were blotted out; 
the bell silent in the steeple; dust gath- 
ered over the pulpit; dry and withered 
flowers in the vases; no prayer-meeting 
or social gathering to call us together; 
we to meet in the street and feel no bond 
uniting us, etc. While I spoke in this 
way, to my surprise the congregation be- 
gan to weep. Tears ran down cheeks 
unaccustomed to such effusion. The 
people went away as from a funeral. 
One lady was still weeping when she 
reached her home about a mile away. 
When some one asked what she was cry- 
ing about, she replied, "What the minis- 

57 



Experiences and Observations 

ter said about closing up the church." 
When a few clays later the pews were 
rented for the following year, over $1,000 
more than the year before was given. I 
mention this little incident simply to 
show the devotion of the Park Street 
people to their church. It was mani- 
fested in many ways and could always 
be depended upon. The pastor never in 
vain made of them any reasonable re- 
quest. 

When I went to Bridgeport the Park 
Street Church had already chosen two 
deacons, Andrew L. Winton and James 
P. Bishop. These represented two dis- 
tinct types of character, the active and 
the meditative, the Martha and the Mary 
style in male habiliments. Each was 
strong in his own way, and the combina- 
tion was a very happy one for the wel- 
fare of the church, the well-balanced 
diaconate caring both for its temporal 
and spiritual interests. Deacon Winton 
was a business man of the most pro- 
nounced character, quick to see an ad- 
vantage and to avail himself of it, 
strenuous in carrying out his projects, 
allowing neither himself nor his em- 
ployees anything short of the most 
thorough and persevering effort. But 

58 



My Bridgeport Pastorate 

for him the Park Street Church would 
not have been organized when it was. 
Many of the brethren were timid about 
launching a new enterprise, but he was 
fearless and determined, and himself 
assumed the expenses of the first year 
of the church's existence. With, all of 
his push and enterprise he was humble 
and warm-hearted, always confessing his 
shortcomings and his earnest desire to 
master his impetuous nature. In him his 
pastor had a firm friend upon whom 
he could rely. Occasionally he said to 
him a sharp word, but not many hours 
passed before he came with an apology 
so sincere that it could but be accepted. 
He and I once took a trip together to the 
White Mountains, and a better traveling 
companion could not be imagined. I 
owed very much to his assistance while 
I was his pastor, and I gave him my 
warm appreciation and affection. 

Deacon Bishop was a man of good 
parts and always true to his convictions. 
But he was gentle in his style, some such 
person as we suppose the Apostle John 
to have been, He reflected deeply upon 
the truths of Christianity and his re- 
marks in prayer-meeting were always 
edifying and sometimes strikingly beau- 

59 



Experiences and Observations 

tiful. As a fervent, even-tempered 
Christian, his influence was great. 
Every one loved him and his memory 
is precious. Both of these deacons re- 
mained in their position during my en- 
tire Bridgeport pastorate. Deacon David 
Wooster was a mixture of the two types, 
an energetic, keen, business man, with a 
good deal of refinement and courtesy, a 
reader of choice literature, a modest, un- 
assuming gentleman. His connection with 
the church added much to its strength 
and attractiveness. 

Deacon Charles M. Minor was a 
steady-going, devout Christian of the 
older type, greatly interested in Mis- 
sions, home and foreign, and always 
doing something for the needy and dis- 
tressed. He and Deacon Bishop were 
brothers-in-law, their wives being sisters 
of the Rev. Dr. Kitchell, one time Presi- 
dent of Middlebury College in Vermont. 

Deacon Harmon Lane was an interest- 
ing speaker in our social services, very 
much given to illustrative comparisons 
and incidents. Had he been educated he 
would have been exceedingly effective as 
an orator. For many years he conducted 
a religious service every Sunday with the 
inmates of the county jail. 

60 



My Bridgeport Pastorate 

Deacon Frederick W. Storrs was a 
man of strong convictions, to which he 
held against all opposition, a man of 
affairs, ready to serve the church in 
every possible way, sometimes a little 
abrupt in language, but a faithful friend 
of his pastor. He became one of the 
first members of the King's Highway 
Church in Bridgeport, and long served it 
as Deacon. 

In addition to these officials there were 
in the church many men and women of 
broad mind and consecrated spirit, true 
to their trust, loving and beloved. I can 
but allude to a few of these as they come 
vividly back to my remembrance. 

Daniel E. Marsh, a man of most at- 
tractive personality, caught my eye on 
the second Sunday that I was in Bridge- 
port, and I then made an acquaintance 
that was very dear to me until his death 
a few years since. After a time he be- 
came superintendent of the Sunday 
school and cared for it in a most efficient 
way. His heart was in the work and 
whatever could be done for its advance- 
ment he eagerly sought to do. His life 
was full of joy to others and his de- 
parture caused heartfelt sorrow. The 

61 



Experiences and Observations 

church has had few friends so generous 
and helpful in every way. 

Peter L. Perry and his family gave the 
new pastor a home for several months, 
winning his gratitude and affection by 
their kindness. Mr. Perry was a quiet 
man, of sound judgment, superintendent 
of the Wheeler and Wilson works, and 
himself a fine machinist and inventor. 
His aged mother was one of our saints. 

Dr. Andrew J. Smith was our "be- 
loved physician," who served as Clerk 
of the Society from the time of its organ- 
ization, and held the position until his 
death, his efficient work covering a period 
of at least forty-eight years. 

Isaac W. Smith, his brother, was one 
of my earliest acquaintances in Bridge- 
port, and always one of my most es- 
teemed friends. It was my privilege to 
marry his daughter, Carrie, to the Hon. 
Henry Roberts, afterwards Governor of 
the commonwealth. 

Frederick B. Hall was one of the es- 
teemed young men of our congregation, 
when I first knew him a student at 
Brown University, and in his vacations 
an assistant at the Wheeler and Wilson 
factory. He became a lawyer, a judge 
of the Superior and Supreme Court, and 

62 



My Bridgeport Pastorate 

at last Chief Justice of the state. He 
died in 1913. 

Dr. Edward A. McLellan, a man of in- 
tellectual keenness and strength, came 
into the church on profession of faith 
and made himself helpful in many ways. 
He was winning in manner and always 
a sturdy and faithful friend. For about 
twenty years he has been the Health 
Officer of the city of Bridgeport. 

George Comstock, a Wilton relative of 
mine, came to my ordination and met his 
fate in the person of a charming young 
lady of the congregation. He faithfully 
served the church in various ways so 
long as I remained its pastor. His beau- 
tiful residence near Seaside Park is a 
choice place to visit when the old pastor 
"goes back home." 

A pleasant memory connected with the 
Bridgeport pastorate is that of my ac- 
quaintance, perhaps I may say intimacy, 
with Mr. P. T. Barnum, the noted show 
man. However he may have been re- 
garded in the world without, the city of 
his residence had for him only respect and 
regard. He was certainly a man of supe- 
rior ability, broad-minded, genial, philan- 
thropic and patriotic. He had seen very 

63 



Experiences and Observations 

much of the world and was a charming 
conversationalist and story-teller. At the 
time of which I speak he was the pillar of 
the Universalist Church in Bridgeport, and 
fond of discussing its doctrines with those 
who did not accept them. Hearing that 
on a certain Sunday I had preached upon 
the subject, setting forth arguments for 
the traditional view which very likely 
would now fail to satisf y me, he wrote me 
a note asking if I would have my sermon 
printed, or would repeat it or come to his 
home and read it to him. I did neither, 
but received from him in that connection 
certain letters that I prize as setting forth 
a phase of Mr. Barnum's character with 
which the public is not familiar. For ex- 
ample, he wrote : 

" I desired you to show me your sermon and to print 
it simply because I want to see and have the public see 
all that can be shown from Scripture and reason on the 
side of endless misery. I am very thankful that you are 
such a zealous Temperance man and such a lover of 
your race. It speaks well for those who think God will 
leave many poor sinners to endless suffering that such 
believers are glad to comfort and reform such sinners in 
this life. I have wept many hours on my knees and 
prayed God to take me out of the world, if He would only 
save me. I thank Him that I have long since seen him 
as an Almighty Father who rules in justice and love, 
and who was never so cruel or unwise as to give us the 
power to make ourselves forever His enemies. 

With best wishes, I am truly your friend, 

P. T. Barnum." 

64 




J. G. Davenport 

30 YEARS OLD 



My Bridgeport Pastorate 

The above letter as I have it is not 
dated. But somewhat later, Nov. 30, 1878, 
in response to my request that he give us 
a Temperance lecture, he wrote as fol- 
lows : 

" Fix any Monday night you please, at your leisure, and 
I'll set your folks laughing so hard they will forget for 
the moment the difference in our theological ideas. 
Possibly it is a little better than nothing to be practi- 
cally useful to our fellow-men, I would be willing to 
'swap' a little of my faith if I could lay in a stock of 
good works in exchange. The older I grow the less I 
care what a man believes, or thinks he believes, so that 
he loves God and man. On these two ' hang all the law 
and the prophets/ 

Truly your friend, 

P. T. Barntjm." 

On one occasion as I was calling at his 
elegant home by the sea he showed me a 
room beautifully fitted up which he said 
he had made ready for "poor Alice 
Cary," who was coming to visit him. 
Whatever ideas of "humbuggery" may 
have been associated with his name, to 
know him was to discover in him many of 
the finest elements of character and life. 

Many others come to my mind as 
I recall those early days, to a few of whom 
I can just refer. Clark Marsh, a suc- 
cessful business man, kind and generous; 
Miss Mary E. Lindley, a poetess and 
worshiper of flowers, whose name lingers 
in our family; John S. Wooster, studi- 

65 



Experiences and Observations 

ous and aspiring, at length a deacon of 
the church and for many years its or- 
ganist; S. C. Kingman, prominent in the 
military matters of the state, giver to 
the church of its clock and bell, still liv- 
ing and active; Philo M. Beers, prom- 
inent in business and devoted to the 
church; Peter Gabriel, usually living up 
to his angelic name and a faithful friend 
of his pastor; Ebenezer Tracy, quiet and 
true, an old soldier of the Union and of 
the cross; Reuben Blake and wife, for 
many years interested in every church 
service, she long at the head of our in- 
fant class in the Sunday school; Hobart 
E. French and wife, sweet singers of 
Israel, Tie for years leader of the choir; 
George Lewis, a plain, unassuming farmer 
who, with his family, added much to the 
strength of the church; Edwin H. Wells, 
who came to us late in his life, but 
honored his pastor with an affection that 
was faithful unto death; Edward D. 
Beach, early choosing the right path, 
graduating at Williams in 1888, helpful 
in Park Street, and afterward in the 
King's Highway Church; Philo Pierce, 
warm-hearted and earnest, early passing 
beyond; William E. Smith who, with his 
wife, first welcomed me to Bridgeport; 

66 



My Bridgeport Pastorate 

George 0. Havens and wife, always win- 
ning and gracious; Matthew and Mrs. 
Lord, serene and quiet in the sunset 
light; Dwight Wheeler, ever true to his 
convictions; Frank M. Wootton, devoted 
and dear, afterward deacon of the 
church; Theodore Quitmeyer, who wept 
profusely when bidding me good-by; 
Charles K. Bishop, a worthy son of 
worthy parents, an enterprising and ex- 
emplary church member and citizen; 
Samuel W. Ingham, a consecrated and 
tender-hearted Christian ; Orange Mer- 
win — as efficient in church matters as in 
business; William H. Perry, a generous 
helper of the church in its early days. 
Many more could be spoken of did time 
and space permit. It was my joy to re- 
ceive into our fellowship five hundred 
and fifty-eight persons, to see the church 
comfortably housed and established in 
all the work that comes to such an or- 
ganization, influential in the growing city 
and reaching out the hand of help to 
those beyond. No minister was ever 
happier in his work than I was during 
those thirteen years, nor had more sym- 
pathetic and efficient helpers. Many of 
those whom as children I baptized, and 
the children of those whom I married, 

67 



My Bridgeport Pastorate 

are now carrying forward the activities 
of the church. During the five pastor- 
ates that have succeeded my own, I have 
followed its career with the deepest in- 
terest. It now reports a membership of 
over six hundred and is apparently pros- 
perous in every respect. 

"How did you come to leave a church 
that was so thriving and so dear?" is 
the question that is naturally asked. The 
real secret of it was a peculiar spiritual 
experience, to which I can only allude. 
But it compelled me, through a sense of 
obligation, to turn my back upon condi- 
tions exceptionally agreeable, and like 
Abraham, go forth to a country that I 
knew not. I felt that there was "one 
clear call for me." One day, as I was 
busy with my work, there suddenly came 
to me a profound feeling that I was not 
doing all that I might for the Kingdom 
of God. It was as if a solemn voice made 
a statement to that effect to my inmost 
soul. I considered the matter and it 
seemed to me that I was using about all 
the ability that I possessed in the task 
assigned me. But the disquieting impres- 
sion refused to be dislodged. After two 
or three days of great unrest I made the 
resolve that if any fuller light should fall 

68 



Experiences and Observations 

upon the pathway of my duty, any clear 
intimation come that I was desired for 
other or different work, I would at any 
cost accept the new conditions. On the 
morning after I had found rest of heart 
and a remarkable peace and satisfaction 
in that decision there came to my study 
a letter postmarked "Waterbury." It 
was from Deacon Charles Benedict of 
the Second Church. After alluding to 
the fact of Dr. Beckwith's resignation, 
he asked, "Do you know of any one who 
would be as suitable to take his place as 
we think you would be if you were at 
liberty ?" The question, coming imme- 
diately after the conclusion at which I 
had arrived, seemed to indicate my duty, 
and I felt at once that I must go to 
Waterbury, in fact I had really prom- 
ised to do so. What others may think 
of the experience referred to, I do not 
know. I remember that Dr. Joseph 
Anderson accused me of being super- 
stitious in regarding it. But to me, com- 
ing as it did without any apparent occa- 
sion, as my work in Bridgeport seemed 
to consume my strength and to be rea- 
sonably successful, it was a very impres- 
sive and serious matter. I could but feel 

69 



Experiences and Observations 

that in it was the suggestion of an over- 
ruling and directing Providence. 

After communicating with Deacon 
Benedict and afterward meeting the 
officers of the Second Church at his resi- 
dence, and exchanging for the twenty- 
second of May with Dr. Beckwith, it was 
intimated to me that I would receive a 
call to the Waterbury pastorate. I told 
them that I would accept it provided 
that I could in a proper manner sever 
my connection with the Park Street 
Church. At length I read my resigna- 
tion, a part of which was as follows : 
"To the members of Park Street Church 

and Society: 

"Beloved friends: Having received an 
invitation to another field of labor which 
I have thought it might be my duty to 
accept, I hereby resign the office among 
you that, with so much satisfaction to 
myself, I have held now these thirteen 
years. I need not tell you that this is 
one of the saddest acts of my life. Had 
our relations been less delightful, the 
sundering of them would be less painful. 
I have only gratitude for the treatment I 
have received at your hands, and only 
commendation for the attitude you have 
maintained toward the work in which I 

70 



My Bridgeport Pastorate 

have been engaged. Were I to consult 
only my own feelings in the matter, I 
should remain with you until you told 
me to depart. But for some time I have 
thought that a change might be advan- 
tageous, certainly for you. No one man 
sees the truth in all its phases or can 
present it in all its bearings. Doubtless 
there are deficiencies in my teaching 
which another might remedy to the bene- 
fit of those whom I have been unable to 
reach, and to the development of the 
church in directions in which it has not 
yet put forth its strength. And then, the 
voice long heard gradually loses its 
power, and unfamiliar accents are 
needed to arrest the attention and to 
win the heart, however it may have been 
at an earlier period. 

"As to myself, I am not my own. The 
dear Lord thought me worthy, putting 
me into the ministry, and in the accep- 
tance of that holy service I gave myself 
to Him to work as, and where, He should 
direct. In the exercise of a kindness for 
which I can never be sufficiently grateful, 
He brought me to you. He has per- 
mitted me to labor with you all these 
golden years, and now, through a series 
of providences, whose language seems 

71 



Experiences and Observations 

too plain to be misunderstood, He ap- 
parently bids me leave you and enter 
upon His work amid new scenes. I have 
not been hasty in arriving at this con- 
clusion, but it has seemed inevitable, 
and I have only been able to say, in 
response to the divine direction, 'N'ot as 
I will, but as Thou wilt.' It may be that 
through the inspiration of new surround- 
ings and of new responsibilities, He sum- 
mons me to greater usefulness. I am 
confident that He calls me to no more 
inviting field or precious fellowship than 
have been mine." 

Before holding a meeting to act upon 
this resignation, the church on Sunday, 
June 26, adopted the following minute : 

"Whereas, an invitation has been ex- 
tended to our dear brother and beloved 
pastor, who has so long and successfully 
labored with us in the Gospel, to transfer 
his field of labor to a sister church, there- 
fore; 

"Resolved, that we recall with grati- 
tude the thirteen years in which our 
pastor has ministered to this people as 
an ambassador of Christ: showing him- 
self a pattern in all good works, a work- 
man that need not be ashamed: the Lord 
giving him grace and understanding 

72 



My Bridgeport Pastorate 

rightly to divide the word of truth: 
uniting us in an unusual degree in the 
love and service of the one Master, the 
Great Shepherd of the sheep. 

"Resolved, that we hear with deep 
solicitude of the endeavor of our breth- 
ren of the church in Waterbury to secure 
for themselves a pastor so acceptable, so 
worthy and efficient with his people. And 
while we would not, were it our right, 
decide for him in a matter involving 
such a sacrifice as he has been ready to 
make for us, in refusing previous oppor- 
tunities in which many advantages have 
been offered him, we would recall the 
many joyful occasions and happy expe- 
riences in which God has blessed us as 
co-laborers in His vineyard and in the 
community, as shown in the increase of 
our membership to more than twelve 
times the number with which we com- 
menced our united Christian work. And 
we most heartily desire to assure our 
pastor of our continued confidence, love 
and cooperation: and we would hope and 
pray that he may continue to minister to 
this church in which so many have found 
the heavenly way and been led by 'the 
still waters,' through his own practical, 
persuasive and winning presentation of 

73 



Experiences and Observations 

the truth. If he shall see it his duty to 
labor in the church that has so cordially 
invited him, we will submit to the will 
of the Great Head of the Church, for- 
getting self as our pastor has done for 
us in the past, praying that the benedic- 
tion of our God may rest upon him and 
upon the church universal." 

At a meeting called soon after to take 
action upon the resignation, the church 
unanimously voted not to accept it, but 
agreed with me to abide by the decision 
of a Council that should be called to con- 
sider and advise. Such a Council met 
July 12, 1881. Eev. W. J. Jennings of 
Redding was moderator and Rev. James 
W. Hubbell of Danbury, scribe. After 
hearing from many parties, including 
Deacons Benedict and Maltby of the 
Waterbury Church, and after partak- 
ing of as good a dinner as the Park 
Street ladies could provide, the Council 
went into secret session which continued 
for four hours, about the most uncom- 
fortable hours that the writer ever expe- 
rienced, for he knew that all things 
concerning him were in the balance. 
Many of the people remained to hear the 
result. The sexton said that if the de- 
cision were that I should stay in Bridge- 

74 



My Bridgeport Pastorate 

port, he would ring the bell. If it were 
that I should leave, he would toll it. At 
six o'clock, on that bright summer day, 
the church bell tolled as if for a funeral. 
We all gathered in the church to hear 
the decision. This was read by Dr. 
Charles Eay Palmer of the First Church, 
Bridgeport. After stating that the 
Council had prayerfully and patiently 
considered the matter laid before them, 
they had voted, 11 to 5, to advise the 
severance of the relations existing be- 
tween the Park Street Church and its 
pastor. And he continued: 

"The Consociation has reached this 
result with sincere regret, for the reason 
that there is involved in it the sundering 
of many ties of peculiar tenderness and 
strength. Our brother Davenport has 
endeared himself, not alone to his own 
charge, but to the other churches of this 
body, and particularly to his ministerial 
brethren. His kindly spirit, his amiable 
character, his fraternal readiness for all 
good offices, his diligence and fidelity, his 
soundness in doctrine and blameless life, 
his effective preaching, his eminently 
successful pastorate — successful in re- 
spect of the large numbers gathered into 
the church during his thirteen years' 

75 



Experiences and Observations 

labor, and in respect of the quality of 
the work done among them and with 
them — will long be remembered in this 
church and by all who have been con- 
versant with his ministry. We commend 
him to the churches in the midst of which 
his lot is to be cast hereafter, as a 
brother trusted and beloved, and an 
able, devoted and useful minister of the 
Gospel. 

"Testifying to the Christian earnest- 
ness which has prevailed in this church, 
and to the concord which has here sub- 
sisted, and to the fidelity of the Society 
to all its obligations, we rejoice in their 
ability to make the sacrifice of their at- 
tachment to a beloved pastor without 
fear, bitterness or doubting, and pray 
that in due time a fortunate successor 
may find, as our brother has found here- 
tofore, in their love, loyalty and coopera- 
tion, his glory and his joy." 

It seems very strange to read in the 
local paper of the day, "The scene in 
the church upon the announcement of 
this decision was an affecting one, men 
and women alike being moved to tears, 
and some of the latter sobbing loudly." 
"Much ado about nothing," is the com- 

76 



My Bridgeport Pastorate 

ment that one now feels like making as 
he reads the statement. 

As for myself I accepted the decision 
without a moment's hesitation and set 
my face toward Waterbury. The fact 
was that I had not wanted to leave 
Bridgeport, and secretly hoped that the 
Council would find some good reason for 
my remaining, although I was quite fully 
convinced from the first that it would 
not. Some of the remarks of the people 
at this time seem very absurd from the 
present standpoint. One lady, with a sob 
accompaniment, said, "Why, Mr. Daven- 
port, I'm afraid they won't treat you 
well!" How many Waterbury ears must 
have burned! One dear friend said to 
me, while tears ran down his cheeks, 
"I'm afraid you're going because I 
haven't been of more help to you." A 
morbid conscientiousness seems to have 
troubled him. A prominent business 
man of the church one afternoon took me 
for a drive through Seaside Park. As 
we rode past the shining waters admir- 
ing their beauty, he suddenly turned to 
me and, to my great surprise, said, "All 
that I am in this world I owe to you." 
And he wept like a child, to my utter 
dismay. I mention these things which 

77 



Experiences and Observations 

come thronging back into memory sim- 
ply to show that the change of pastor- 
ates was not made without considerable 
mental disturbance on the part of myself 
and others. In fact I lost ten pounds 
avoirdupois in the process! A few of 
the Bridgeport people seem scarcely as 
yet to have forgiven me for leaving 
them; although it has certainly been to 
their great advantage. 

Bridgeport, the city by the sea, pos- 
sesses a charm for me that time can 
never change. There I first knew the 
responsibility and the joy of the pastor; 
there my life companion and I, on the 
18th of July, 1868, established our little 
home; there two of our children came to 
us; there our dear son, born in Wilton, 
April 21, 1868, passed his babyhood and 
boyhood and learned to know and love 
his first teachers; there innumerable 
happy experiences were ours in the com- 
panionship of loving friends; there it was 
my unspeakable delight to help many a 
one out of darkness into the light of God 
and to see those who had come near 
making shipwreck of life find the paths 
of righteousness and secure the truest 
success. Many of its homes are for me 
associated with satisfactions of the high- 

78 



My Bridgeport Pastorate 

est order, and endeared forever by the 
memory of spirits touched with the 
beauty of the divine, without whom even 
heaven, as it seems to me, would lack 
something of splendor. Dear old Park 
Street! May He who walks among the 
golden candlesticks illumine it with the 
glory of His presence, even forevermore! 
And may the Park City be as prosperous 
in all moral and spiritual things as it 
is in its industrial and commercial 
interests ! 



79 



IV 

MY WATERBURY PASTORATE 

On a warm, hazy, autumnal day, Sat- 
urday, September 17, 1881, my wife and 
myself started from Wilton, where we 
had left our children, for the city that 
was to be our home. We passed through 
Bridgeport, repressing with some diffi- 
culty the homesickness that would assert 
itself; at High Rock Grove saw the First 
Church of Waterbury gathered for a 
picnic and wondered if we should ever 
know its people, and so came on to the 
Brass City, which we reached about four 
o'clock in the afternoon. Immediately 
we were driven to the stately mansion of 
Deacon Charles Benedict, where we had 
been invited to visit until the parsonage 
should be prepared. The deacon himself 
was on the ocean, having started for Eu- 
rope on the previous Wednesday. His 
wife and daughters warmly welcomed us 
and we soon felt very much at home. On 
the following day a large congregation 
greeted us, many having come no doubt 
out of curiosity to see and hear the pas- 

81 



Experiences and Observations 

tor-elect. The consciousness of being 
viewed "with a critic's eye" was not al- 
together agreeable but was to be ex- 
pected. As we entered the sanctuary we 
saw on the communion table a bank of 
greenery with the word "Welcome" 
upon it in white blossoms. Deacon John 
Woodward escorted the new minister to 
the lecture room and thence into the pul- 
pit, his rapid breathing showing the ex- 
citement under which he labored. Evi- 
dently he was somewhat in doubt as to 
the outcome of the whole matter. Very 
likely he had a vision at that moment of 
the pastor from whom he had recently 
parted with deep regret, and wondered 
if his place was to be adequately filled. 

I preached from the text, Philemon 15, 
"Perhaps he was therefore parted from 
thee for a season that thou mightest have 
him forever." I spoke of the separa- 
tions in this world that often cause us so 
much pain, as theirs from their loved 
pastor and mine from the church that 
was so dear, and tried to show that as 
these occurred in the providence of God 
there was no doubt in them a divine 
thought for our good. The audience was 
very attentive and apparently sympa- 
thetic. At noon I was introduced to the 

82 



My Waterbury Pastorate 

Sunday School, which Mr. Wallace H. 
Camp was successfully conducting. At 
his request I offered the prayer and 
spoke a few words to the school. In the 
afternoon the service was largely influ- 
enced by the fact that President Garfield 
lay at the point of death, down in El- 
beron. The sermon was about being 
"absent from the body and at home with 
the Lord." At six o'clock I attended a 
very vigorous prayer-meeting of the 
young people and spoke briefly. The 
lecture room was full and many partici- 
pated. It seemed to me a most inspiring 
thing that so many of the youth of the 
congregation should be thus engaged and 
manifest so much of interest. On the 
whole, the first Sunday of the Waterbury 
pastorate was a very pleasant one. Many 
people were met and all were kindly. 

On the following day President Gar- 
field died, and Tuesday morning the Hon. 
S. W. Kellogg came up to Mrs. Bene- 
dict's to apprise us of the fact. He also 
invited me to offer the prayer at the 
opening of the Superior Court that after- 
noon. This I did and for the first time 
met the lawyers of Waterbury, with 
whom my relations have always been 
cordial. Friday night came the church 

83 



Experiences and Observations 

prayer meeting, which I conducted with 
something of diffidence. There was a 
large gathering and great freedom in 
prayer and remark. A certain maturity 
of thought characterized most of the 
speakers, which was both pleasing and 
edifying. The topic was Christ's know- 
ing his sheep and calling them by their 
names. Of course I met many more of 
the people and was pleased with the cor- 
diality of their greeting. 

A feature of the Sunday service that 
greatly impressed me was the music. 
The choir chanted "One sweetly solemn 
thought" in a most exquisite manner. 
It seemed to me that I had never heard 
anything sweeter or more touching. 
Possibly the circumstances of the day 
had something to do with it, but the 
music of the Second Church, so long 
under the direction of Albert J. Blakes- 
ley, has always seemed to me of a supe- 
rior quality. Undoubtedly it has had 
very much to do with the success of the 
church. 

Churches as well as men possess in- 
dividuality. The church to which I came 
in Waterbury was entirely different from 
that in Bridgeport, requiring different 
treatment, so that the beginning of the 

84 



My Waterbury Pastorate 

pastorate here seemed almost like begin- 
ning the ministry. I found the new 
church far less demonstrative than the 
old, less easily influenced, more inde- 
pendent in its thinking, more deliberate 
in action, yet moving with greater weight 
when its mind was made up; capable, by 
reason of its constituency, the business 
ability, the wealth, the culture that it 
contained, of attempting and accomplish- 
ing large things. It seemed to me ex- 
ceedingly conservative. One of the 
deacons with tearful eyes begged me to 
"make no change." "When I spoke of 
missing the responsive readings in 
church to which I had been accustomed, 
another deacon said, "When we want 
those we will go across the street.' ' 
When I came I discovered that Dr. Beck- 
with, my predecessor, had stolen a good 
part of the heart of the church and car- 
ried it to California. For two years, as 
I told him, he was pastor rather than 
myself. "Our former pastor," was 
quoted on all occasions, and I saw in this 
the loyalty of the people. However, they 
received me with sufficient cordiality, and 
together we went forth to the mist- 
shrouded years. I stated that I would 
remain for five years if we could agree. 

85 



Experiences and Observations 

Very soon, as it seemed to me, I looked 
up from my absorbing toils and noted 
that the flight of thirty years was 
marked upon the dial of the universe. 
No such continuance as that was dreamed 
of when the pastorate began. 

During the summer of 1881, I received 
from the senior deacon of the church, the 
Hon. Charles Benedict, nineteen letters, 
all of them kindly, many of them affec- 
tionate, full of expressions of hopeful- 
ness regarding the work in which we 
were to be associated, and of promises 
to aid me therein to the utmost of his 
ability. His friendliness won my heart. 
The support of such a man, prominent in 
business circles and prominent in the 
church, a man who bore great burdens 
in the world of manufacture and finance 
and who yet was never absent from the 
weekly prayer meeting, the president of 
some of Waterbury's great industrial 
establishments, and president as well of 
our Congregational Education Society, 
his promised support meant very much 
to me in my anticipation of the Water- 
btiry pastorate. In a parting message 
before he sailed, he asked me to defer 
my installation until November 2, when 
he expected to be with us. On that very 

86 



My Waterbury Pastorate 

day while we were joyfully preparing to 
welcome him home, those who went to 
New York to meet him found but his 
lifeless form. He had died suddenly on 
shipboard, three days from the American 
coast. To the ship that brought it we 
sighed with Tennyson, 

" Thou bringst the sailor to his wife, 

And traveled men from foreign lands, 
And letters into trembling hands, 
And thy dark freight, a vanished life." 

and we added, 

" Come, then, pure hands, and bear the head 
That sleeps, or wears the mask of sleep, 
And come, whoever loves to weep, 
And hear the ritual of the dead." 

Deacon Benedict's removal was like 
the fall of a strong, substantial pillar 
upon which I had leaned for support, 
perhaps too heavily. It was with a 
peculiar sense of desolation that I stood 
by his grave at the very commencement 
here of my ministry. Never did the 
words of the psalmist come to me with 
greater force: "Put not your trust in 
princes, nor in the son of man, in whom 
is no help." But in that same hour an- 
other voice, familiar and wondrously 
sweet, said to me, "Lo, I am with you 
alway," and within me was born new 
hope for the future. Our bereavement 

87 



Experiences and Observations 

brought the Church and its new pastor 
into very close and tender relations as 
we sought to comfort each other. Some 
kindly said that I had "come to the 
kingdom for such a time as this. ' ' While 
I went bravely forward in the work as- 
signed me I carried unknown to the 
world a sad heart, and yet I somehow 
felt that his love followed me and that 
he was glad when I was true to my trust. 
Five days after the funeral of Deacon 
Benedict, November 9, 1881, came the 
installation service at which he had 
hoped to be present. Dr. Magill, who 
had attended the funeral, presided and 
offered the installing prayer. The Rev. 
Dr. L. Pratt of Norwich preached a 
beautiful sermon from the text, "And 
they went forth and preached every- 
where, the Lord working with them." 
Dr. Palmer of Bridgeport gave the 
charge to the pastor and Dr. Carter of 
Williamstown the charge to the people. 
Dr. Anderson gave the right hand of 
fellowship in a very tender and touching 
manner. Of all those who participated 
in the service, including Eev. J. W. 
Cooper, Dr. Hawes of New Haven and 
Rev. G. S. Thrall, only Dr. Franklin 
Carter still lives. A letter from Dr. 

88 



My Waterbury Pastorate 

Beckwith was read in which he said that 
he hoped the pastor that day installed 
would remain in office longer than had 
all of his predecessors together. This 
hope has been fulfilled, as Dr. Magill re- 
mained twelve years, Mr. Whittlesey five, 
Dr. Beckwith ten, a total of twenty- 
seven years, while the fourth pastorate 
continued for thirty years. No one that 
day anticipated such a result, least of all 
the man to whom was entrusted the care 
of the large and important parish. A 
local paper reporting the installation 
said, "The singing was a very pleasing 
feature of the service, the two anthems 
being beautifully rendered, and Mr. 
Blakesley, the organist, and the choir 
did themselves great credit." 

At that time the church worshiped in 
a large, square, barnlike auditorium at 
the eastern end of the City Green. It 
was sacred with its associations, but 
dreary in aspect and haunted by an echo 
that flung back upon himself all the 
speaker's suggestions. In addition to 
this was a lecture room in the rear, 
capable of seating perhaps one hundred 
and fifty to two hundred people. This 
Vas the entire equipment for the work 
of the church. Before I came Dr. Beck- 

89 



Experiences and Observations 

with had told me that something must 
immediately be done in the way of pro- 
viding better accommodations. A new 
sanctuary with modern arrangements for 
the Sunday School and social work 
seemed to him, and to me as well, im- 
peratively demanded. After a few years 
of adjustment to the new situation, I be- 
gan to labor toward securing such a 
house, preaching various sermons upon 
the subject, stirring up the pure minds 
of the people by way of showing them 
the advantages involved in the posses- 
sion of a new church, suggesting possible 
places and plans for building, and 
methods for raising the needed funds, 
etc. Upon this one string I played, 
probably to the weariness of the people, 
although I never heard them complain. 
How much the great work of erecting 
such a house of worship means, we all 
know. Sometimes out of it dissensions 
and alienations grow that develop into 
permanent heartache and division, but in 
this case there was nothing of the sort. 
A spirit of love for the church and of 
willingness to do whatever its best inter- 
ests required was manifest from the 
first. After numberless deliberations 
and discussions, the matter at length 

90 



My Waterbury Pastorate 

took definite shape, when in 1891 the 
fine lot on the corner of West Main 
Street and Holmes Avenue was bought 
and paid for. In the Chronicle of 1892, 
after recording the purchase of the lot, 
it was said, "A fund of between $4,000 
and $5,000 is in the hands of the trea- 
surer, while in addition we have the 
church property now in use and a con- 
stituency by no means poor nor ungen- 
erous. So that by faith we can already 
see the substantial walls of our new sanc- 
tuary gemmed with memorial windows 
and crowned with graceful towers. Who 
of us will see them in any other way is a 
serious question, as life is uncertain." 

However, in the twelfth year of my 
pastorate, July 16, 1893, the cornerstone 
of our new edifice was laid with appro- 
priate ceremonies, President Franklin 
Carter of Williams making the address. 
A year and a half later we took posses- 
sion of the Sunday School room in the 
second story and there held services dur- 
ing the winter. June 26, 1895, we en- 
tered with great joy into our new house 
of worship, finding it well adapted to the 
life and work of a great church. The 
edifice, plain and substantial, with its 
capacious audience room and facilities 

91 



Experiences and Observations 

for the varied endeavors of the people, 
has been regarded with great favor by 
all who have seen it. It has grown more 
and more sacred as the years have gone 
on and over its altars have fallen the 
shadow and the sunshine of earth's deep- 
est experiences. 

When our church was dedicated there 
rested upon church and parsonage a debt 
of $60,000, $100,000 having already been 
paid. This seemed somewhat formidable, 
but a weekly offering for its reduction 
was soon instituted, in which at the first 
six hundred people participated, and 
this, in connection with occasional gifts 
from interested parties, entirely elim- 
inated the debt within six or seven years, 
I speaking of the subject only once a 
year when the envelopes were distrib- 
uted. Never was so great a debt extin- 
guished with greater facility, as the work 
not of a few but of all the people, and 
no one felt any poorer for that which 
had been given, but richer for that 
which had been secured. 

The dedication on a cloudless June day 
was an occasion of deepest interest. A 
powerful sermon was preached by the 
Rev. Dr. R. R. Meredith, then of Brook- 
lyn, upon the "Anointing of the Spirit.' ' 

92 



My Waterbury Pastorate 

And when the congregation, guided by 
the pastor, dedicated the beautiful tem- 
ple "To the glory of God, to the honor 
of Jesus Christ, to the praise of the Holy 
Spirit," consecrating it to the various 
ends involved in the furtherance of the 
Kingdom of God, we felt that the place 
was in close connection with the heavenly 
sanctuary. "The glory of the Lord filled 
the temple.' ' On the evening of that day 
the house was filled with another con- 
gregation, while ten of the city pastors, 
representing six different denominations, 
occupied the platform. Felicitous words 
of congratulation and of brotherly love 
were spoken. On the following evening 
the annual meeting of the Waterbury 
Christian Endeavor Union was held in 
the church, bringing a houseful of de- 
voted young people, whose earnestness 
gave it still another consecration. 

On the next Sunday evening the three 
Congregational churches of the city 
there united in a service, the Eev. Dr. 
Joseph Anderson preaching a delightful 
sermon from the text, "Strength and 
beauty are in His sanctuary.' ' Thus was 
the house set apart to holy uses, while, 
as we trust, the Second Church, as a 
spiritual body, was anew consecrated to 

93 



Experiences and Observations 

the work of God in the elevation of 
humanity. As the years have flown, our 
sanctuary has commended itself more 
and more to the congregation. Its audi- 
torium so capacious, with acoustic prop- 
erties so excellent, has been much em- 
ployed for assemblies of various kinds, 
proving itself of vast benefit not only to 
ourselves but to the city, and to various 
good causes in the commonwealth. If its 
facilities for the social and Sunday 
School work of the church were some- 
what more ample, the structure would be 
complete. It may be that before many 
years the equipment of the church will be 
supplemented by the addition of a suit- 
able parish house. Generous gifts for 
this have already been offered. 

Until the beginning of the present pas- 
torate, the Second Church had frequently 
invited an evangelist to hold services and 
stir up the religious energies of the peo- 
ple. This method evidently had its ad- 
vantages, in the way of reaching some 
whom the ordinary services failed to 
touch, but it seemed to me that its dis- 
advantages were great, and I desired to 
pursue a different method, emphasizing 
the regular work of the church and Sun- 
day School. This method in Bridgeport 

94 



My Waterbury Pastorate 

had proved itself very effective. Some 
of the leaders of the Waterbury church 
looked with distrust upon the pastor's 
ideas in this connection and prophesied 
dearth for the church they loved. Let- 
ters regarding the matter reached me 
before I left Bridgeport, and several 
talked with me upon the subject after my 
arrival. A few were disaffected by what 
was regarded as my want of sympathy 
with the best methods of expanding the 
Kingdom and at least one strong man 
left the church. One said, "We shall not 
have a revival in forty years." But time 
went on and it was found after a little 
that the church dependent under God 
upon itself was no less efficient than 
when looking outside for aid. The aver- 
age additions to the church were larger 
than ever before. Scarcely a communion 
passed at which none came into our fel- 
lowship. During the thirty years of my 
pastorate the additions were exactly 
fifty-three per year, while those under 
my predecessor were but forty. At length 
those who doubted were apparently con- 
vinced, and after the first few years 
nothing was heard of the need of help 
from without. 

The church seemed to grow in a nat- 
95 



Experiences and Observations 

ural and healthful manner, those who 
came into its fellowship as a rule re- 
maining true to their covenant vows. 
The religious culture of the people was 
aimed at and their deliberate choice of 
the way of life rather than the securing 
of special seasons of excitement. No 
doubt there is a place for the evangelist, 
but as it seems to me, that place is espe- 
cially where regular church officials and 
their work are lacking, as in new fields 
or among those religiously uncultured. 
However, whatever methods one may 
prefer, it is unbecoming in him to con- 
demn those highly esteemed by other 
people, and this the writer would never 
do. During the last thirty-five years 
Eev. B. Fay Mills and Mr. D. L. Moody 
held union services in our city, but with 
no marked impression. All the churches 
are strenuously devoting themselves to 
the cultivation of their own field, and to 
such efforts for the general good as may 
be put forth. And who shall say that 
they are not effective? 

AVhile yet in the old sanctuary, we 
celebrated the fortieth anniversary of the 
organization of the church. This was in 
1892. Two Sundays, April 3 and April 
10, were given up, morning and evening, 

96 



My Waterbury Pastorate 

to recollections of the past. Papers upon 
the various branches of our history and 
departments of our work were prepared 
by those competent to do it. Much of 
interest was thus rescued from threat- 
ened oblivion. Full accounts of the cele- 
bration with the papers presented were 
written out by Mrs. Charles Benedict, 
and the result is a volume whose interest 
and value will continually increase as 
time goes on. 

A very large proportion of those 
prominent in the church when my pas- 
torate began have passed away. I can 
but tarry for a little to sketch with a 
few broad lines the men who were then 
managing its affairs. Deacon Benedict 
has already been alluded to, a man of 
rare dignity and strength and usefulness, 
who did much in the early years of the 
church to mould it into the form which it 
assumed. I had known him in our state 
work, having been associated with him 
upon some committee of the General 
Conference, and as has been said, he 
conducted the correspondence regarding 
my assumption of the pastorate. I had 
come to esteem him very highly, but he 
left Waterbury just before I came and 
I was only here to attend his funeral. 

97 



Experiences and Observations 

The large tower of our church is a monu- 
ment to his memory, but his chief memo- 
rial is in the spirit and life of the church 
and the city that were dear to him. He 
was at one time mayor of the city and for 
years the senior deacon of the church. 

Deacon Douglass F. Maltby was 
closely associated with him, a charming 
gentleman of the old school, courteous 
and gracious to the last degree, wise in 
counsel and most helpful in the social 
services of the church. His kindly, sym- 
pathetic words to the new pastor after 
the death of Deacon Benedict were ex- 
ceedingly welcome. Spared to a good 
old age (eighty-seven), he was loved and 
honored by all who knew him. 

Deacon Augustus M. Blakesley was 
one of the most useful men ever con- 
nected with the church. One of its orig- 
inal members, it was as dear to him as 
his own family. It was he who was wont 
to spend sleepless nights over the indebt- 
edness of the church after it had built 
its new sanctuary. He toiled and prayed 
and gave in its interest. He was deacon 
for twenty-nine years, choir-leader for 
twenty-three, Sunday School treasurer 
for fifty-four, its librarian for eighteen, 
treasurer of the Society for fifty-five. 

98 



My Waterbury Pastorate 

Perhaps more than any other person he 
gave his life to the church. Most win- 
ning in manner and straightforward in 
character, he held the confidence and love 
of all. To his pastor he was always 
affectionate and helpful. 

Deacon John Woodward was one of 
the first to welcome me when I came 
hither. For several years I had known 
Judge A. B. Woodward in Norwalk, and 
when I saw the deacon, I said to him, "I 
don't know that Judge Woodward has a 
brother, but if he has you are he!" He 
confessed the relationship and the fact 
was an introduction to a man who be- 
came to me a faithful adviser and a dear 
friend. He was conservative but true to 
his convictions and eager for the welfare 
and progress of the church. 

Deacon Edwin A. Lum was a sturdy 
member of the diaconate, who received 
me most cordially and encouraged me by 
his helpful words and deeds. But after 
a few months he removed from us to 
Seymour, where he served as deacon, 
and then for many years lived in New 
Milf ord, where he died July 29, 1916, 
aged ninety-seven years and nine months. 
He was the last survivor of our deacons 
of 1881. 

99 



Experiences and Observations 

Deacon Jonathan Highmore was very 
much in evidence when I came to Water- 
bury. He was employed by the church 
as a missionary, and in that capacity he 
took me about and introduced me to 
many of the people. He visited the sick 
and needy and ministered to the 
strangers and made himself generally 
useful in connection with our church 
activities. After we secured an assistant 
pastor he removed to Branford, and 
there as a deacon served faithfully for 
several years. 

Deacon Homer W. Keeler was a very 
active promoter of the life of the church. 
A thorough believer in the revival sys- 
tem, he was not quite reconciled to the 
ideas of the new pastor, but did what he 
could to make his work successful. His 
remarks in the prayer meeting always 
showed thought and earnestness. His 
labor in the missions of the church was 
highly esteemed. His familiarity with 
literature and his advanced views in the- 
ology added to his efficiency. He was 
clerk of the church for forty years. 

These were the seven deacons, includ- 
ing Deacon Benedict, who welcomed me 
to Waterbury. I lived to attend every 
one of their funerals. Before them had 

100 



My Waterbury Pastorate 

served Deacon Nelson Hall, then of New 
Haven, whom I met on his visits to our 
city and whom I esteemed as a very in- 
telligent and kindly gentleman; Deacon 
E. W. Keeler, who died two years before 
I came, the only deacon of the Second 
Church whom I have not known; and 
Deacon Gr. W. Cooke, who was living in 
Waterbury, but was out of office. 

Others prominent in the church greeted 
me on my coming hither. Among them 
was the Hon. Stephen W. Kellogg, of 
whom I had so exalted an opinion that I 
almost feared to preach to him, but who 
proved to be a very gracious and con- 
siderate neighbor and friend, adding 
much to the comfort of the new pastor 
and his family. He became a deacon of 
the church in 1888. Mr. Augustus S. 
Chase, an original member of the society, 
who gave it for many years the benefit 
of his ability and wisdom, a prominent 
man of the city, succeeding Charles Bene- 
dict in some of his presidencies, received 
the new pastor very cordially and gave 
him great encouragement. Israel Holmes, 
the banker, was another sturdy member 
of our fellowship who always had a 
warm hand and a kind and helpful word 
for his pastor. His home, where the 

101 



Experiences and Observations 

Waterbury Hospital now stands, was one 
of the delightful resting-places of those 
days in which many a happy hour was 
spent. John M. Burrall, the veteran 
business man, was immeasurably kind. 
Many a drive he gave me behind his 
rather skittish horse. He was the oldest 
man that I ever married (seventy-seven), 
but he seemed to have found the fountain 
of perpetual youth, certainly of per- 
petual cheerfulness. 

Willard P. Abernethy, one of the 
younger men of the church, was one of 
its brightest and best. He said he was 
going to take two Sundays before mak- 
ing up his mind regarding the new pas- 
tor. On the evening of the second, he 
said, "Well, I'll risk him!" He proved 
to be a very dear and helpful friend. 
Business interests, however, called him 
to Bridgeport, and he left us for that 
city, becoming a deacon in its First 
Church. In that office he died several 
years ago. Wallace H. Camp was an- 
other of the younger and more useful 
men. He was superintendent of the Sun- 
day School for thirteen years, managing 
it with great success. In 1894 he was 
elected deacon and now for some eight 
years has been the senior deacon of the 

102 




z 
o 
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p 

W ON 

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My Waterbury Pastorate 

church. Theophilus R. Hyde, Jr., was 
still another of the young men prominent 
among us in 1881, a man of somewhat 
unusual intelligence who used his gifts 
for the uplift of humanity. He became 
deacon in 1901, and died Dec. 14, 1907. 
Burton Gr. Bryan was for many years 
the efficient treasurer of the church, and 
helpful to it in many ways. He died in 
1911. 

Lewis J. Atwood, one of our city's 
prominent manufacturers, a man of great 
business ability, who had come into the 
church during Dr. Beckwith's pastorate, 
was one of its efficient members in 1881. 
Although exceedingly devoted to the man 
who received him into the church, he 
gave a somewhat hesitating hand of wel- 
come to his successor. But as time went 
on that hand became warmer and gave 
a closer grasp. I came to lean upon him 
as a wise and gracious friend. In 1892 
he was elected deacon and served for 
seventeen years, dying in 1909, eight 
days before Dr. Beckwith passed away 
among the Sandwich Islands. I used to 
wonder as to their meeting! 

Dr. Gideon L. Piatt, physician in 
Waterbury for fifty-three years, always 
sat directly in front of me on Sunday 
103 



Experiences and Observations 

morning, a very intelligent and attentive 
listener. He was a courteous gentleman 
who soon won my sincere respect and 
regard. He told interesting things re- 
garding the earlier history of our city 
with which he was so familiar. It was 
he who called that section of it over the 
Naugatuck, "Brooklyn," a title that it 
still retains. He was wont to visit his 
patients there before a bridge was built, 
fording the river. I was with him when 
he died, and at his funeral spoke of him 
as the "Beloved Physician." 

George E. Terry, conspicuous among 
us as a shrewd and reliable attorney, had 
come into the church in 1865, and in his 
quiet, unobtrusive way had added to its 
strength and usefulness. He received the 
new pastor most cordially, and I some- 
how felt that I had long known him, so 
brotherly was he and helpful. He proved 
himself a true friend, always ready to 
assist, in any way that he could, either 
the pastor or the church. For profes- 
sional services I was greatly indebted to 
him. He still lives, with undiminished 
cordiality greeting us whenever in 
Waterbury. The South claims him in 
winter and the North in summer. 

William B. Brooks impressed me with 
104 



My Waterbury Pastorate 

his kindness when I was a newcomer. 
His home, down on Liberty Street, 
graced with the presence of his saintly 
mother and others of his family, was a 
most attractive spot, where I felt myself 
at home. He yet remains with us and 
has always been eager to serve his 
friends. I remember that he said, when 
the new parsonage was building, "I can't 
afford myself to look through plate glass, 
but I want my pastor to." They came 
to us in 1868 by letter from Cheshire. 

Frank E. Benham was one of the most 
devoted and helpful of my friends when 
I came to Waterbury. He and his team 
were always at my service when I de- 
sired to go to an adjoining town to 
preach or to any of the outlying dis- 
tricts of our own city. Hundreds, and 
possibly thousands, of miles I have 
driven with him, and found him always 
a delightful companion, honest, earnest, 
spiritually-minded. He has for years 
been one of my candidates for deacon 
but has steadfastly refused to accept the 
dignity. 

Albert J. Blakesley, organist of the 
church for thirty-five years, was prom- 
inent in it in 1881, and for many years 
afterward. He resigned his position in 

105 



Experiences and Observations 

1909, to the regret of a multitude of 
people who had been uplifted and in- 
spired by his music. On how many a 
Sunday in the old church and the new 
he brought something heavenly into the 
service! And on how many occasions of 
joy and of sorrow the organ, responsive 
to his touch, gave the note of gladness or 
of grief! Into his busy life there must 
float from the realms of memory many 
a sweet and soothing strain. 

John and William Leggett, loyal and 
sturdy members of the church, with their 
Scotch firmness and thoughtfulness, 
warm-hearted and earnest, gave me the 
brotherly right hand as I came and con- 
tinued their helpfulness as the years 
moved on. John became deacon in 1895 
and, to our great sorrow, died March 23, 
1916. His brother William is still with 
us, active and earnest as ever. 

Lenthal S. Davis was very prominent 
in all our social religious gatherings. 
He had served as superintendent of the 
Sunday School for ten years and was 
greatly interested in its welfare. For 
years he conducted the service at Oak- 
ville, to the great satisfaction of the peo- 
ple. His favorite theme in the prayer 
meeting was the Holy Spirit, with whose 

106 



My Waterbury Pastorate 

methods of working he seemed very 
familiar. He sometimes thought that we 
failed duly to honor Him. In the year 
1882 he was elected a deacon of the 
church and died in 1884. 

Earl A. Smith was in those early years 
an active member of our church. He was 
a man of unusual intellectual strength, 
and his remarks in the prayer meeting 
were always of weight. He was greatly in- 
terested in city affairs and held various 
offices under its government. In 1890 he 
and his family took letters to the First 
Church of Waterbury. 

George Tompkins was another man of 
very vigorous mind, frequently heard in 
the prayer meeting, where he and 
Brother E. A. Smith were quite likely to 
get into an argument over some disputed 
point in belief or practice. He was 
strongly in favor of the evangelistic 
method in carrying forward the work of 
a church, and did not take kindly to the 
pastor's ideas upon that subject. He 
died in 1888. 

Henry L. Wade was a quiet man of 
clear discernment and excellent judg- 
ment, who made himself very useful in 
the society, as he did in various char- 
itable organizations in the city. Very 

107 



Experiences and Observations 

unassuming, he yet possessed great exec- 
utive ability and accomplished much 
good. He died, greatly mourned, in 1912. 
Many others pass before my mind as 
I think of those early days of the Water- 
bury pastorate. If there were time and 
strength it would be a pleasure to de- 
scribe them every one. As it is, one can 
do scarcely more than mention some of 
their names. All of them, either directly 
or by implication, pledged their friend- 
ship and support to the new pastor, 
David L. Durand, who left us for Derby 
and then removed to Los Angeles, where 
he lived a very useful life; Clark M. 
Piatt, large in person and mind; his 
genial son-in-law, Jay H. Hart; Gilman 
C. Hill, son-in-law of Charles Benedict, 
whom I had met before coming to Water- 
bury; Henry W. Scovill, living in his 
colonial home where the Elton now 
stands, a warm-hearted, devoted member 
of the church; Sturges M. Judd, venera- 
ble and beloved, useful in the city and 
the church; Henry Kirk, a genial Scotch- 
man who was early called from earth ; Ed- 
ward T. Turner, prominent in the politics 
of the town and the state ; Edson A. Judd, 
a worthy brother who has just left us; 
John Henderson, Jr., in whose fertile mind 

108 



My Waterbury Pastorate 

originated the idea of a Third Church; 
Irving H. Coe, one of the sweet singers 
of Israel; William A. Morris, always in 
his place Sunday morning, although un- 
able to hear the service; Dr. C. S. Bod- 
man, another son-in-law of Charles 
Benedict; George Barnes, witty and 
wise; Frederick Wilcox, admirable in 
person and manner; Walter C. Palmer, 
the thoughtful sexton; Daniel F. Web- 
ster, a lawyer, worthy of his great name, 
becoming mayor of the city; Francis 
Kane^ a sturdy Calvinist and a faithful 
friend; Emerson M. Hotchkiss, genial 
and generous; George B. Baldwin, a suc- 
cessful business man and a charming 
companion; Berkeley S. Hotchkiss, blunt 
in speech but affectionate; Philo B. Nor- 
ton, a man of few words and many good 
deeds; John H. Abbott, considerate and 
kind; Casimir H. Bronson, sane and far- 
seeing; William B. Judd, gentle and 
strong; Henry Frisbie, a man of country 
ways and city enterprise; Albert S. 
Upson, sweet-spirited and interesting in 
conversation; Dudley H. Abbott, helpful 
in choir and social service; Merritt Piatt, 
sturdy and devoted; Charles H. Fogg, 
with me in both pastorates; Jared F. 
Baldwin, kindly and faithful; William M. 

109 



Experiences and Observations 

Cottle, fraternal in spirit and association; 
D. L. Dickinson, diligent in business while 
fervent in spirit; Jesse M. Hall, broad- 
minded and brotherly; others, perhaps 
equally prominent, but who do not occur 
to me as I write. 

And there were women, very many of 
them, of Christlike spirit, of discerning 
mind and executive ability, ever ready to 
do their part; their companionship en- 
livening, their Christian faith and hope- 
fulness contagious, their gracious com- 
mendation inspiring to more earnest 
endeavor. The organizations of the 
church in which they had a part were 
always busy and productive, and the 
social occasions dependent upon their 
efforts were invariably a success. To 
write of all these would be a joy which 
the writer cannot allow himself, but their 
faces and names, their words and works, 
the spirit they manifested and the beauty 
of Christian character that they exhib- 
ited brighten with unfading splendor 
those far-off years. I can but think that 
the church was peculiarly rich in inter- 
esting and worthy personalities, repre- 
senting various grades of society, differ- 
ently endowed, but all Christian and 
competent and helpful so far as the 

no 



My Waterbury Pastorate 

church and its requirements were con- 
cerned. Personally I owe them all a 
debt of gratitude that can never be fully 
paid. But I do most deeply appreciate 
all that they were to me. With very 
many of them I have gone down to the 
brink of the river that rolls between this 
and the land unseen, and with tear- 
choked voice have bidden them farewell. 
It cannot be that with all their wealth of 
intellectual and spiritual worth, they 
have passed out of being. Somewhere in 
the Father's great realm they are doubt- 
less serving Him and His. How sweet 
must be their fellowship "over there." 

In 1887, with the consent of the officers 
of the church, in company with my 
brother-in-law, Mr. Clarence L. West- 
cott of New York, I had the pleasure of 
making a brief trip to Europe. After a 
pleasant voyage on the Servia, of the 
Cunard line, we landed at Liverpool and 
went down to Leamington in Warwick- 
shire, and making that our base of sup- 
plies, visited the towns round about. At 
Coventry, the home of my ancestors, I 
laid my hand reverently upon the stone 
font from which John Davenport, after- 
ward the first minister of New Haven, 
was baptized in 1597. It was a thrilling 
ill 



Experiences and Observations 

experience to stand there and think of 
the progress that the world had made in 
three hundred years. We went to 
Warwick, and in its wonderful castle saw 
the accumulations of centuries, relics of 
earls, knights, dukes, monarchs, chivalry, 
beauty and all that is grand in English 
history. Kenilworth, with its grim ruins, 
illumined forever by the genius of Sir 
Walter Scott t received us within its ivy- 
covered walls; a weird, haunted spot, 
from which we were glad to escape. 

Stratford, beautiful old Stratford, 
charmed us with its associations. We 
stood in the room where the glorious 
poet was born and refused to record our 
names with the thousands there written, 
largely because there was no space re- 
maining vacant. Sir Walter Scott's we 
saw, penned with a diamond upon a 
window pane. Then we visited the 
Church of the Holy Trinity, the burial 
place of the immortal poet, and read the 
quaint words that have prevented any 
encroachment upon the sacredness of his 
grave. If some one were brave enough 
to risk the " curse," and open the tomb, 
it is possible that light upon certain dis- 
puted questions might be obtained. At 
the Red Lion Inn we were shown cer- 

112 



My Waterbury Pastorate 

tain matters associated with Washington 
Irving, our own countryman, who there 
lingered for a time and wrote his account 
of Stratford. "We gazed with reverence 
upon the poker with which he was wont 
to care for the fire in his room, an im- 
plement as carefully kept and guarded 
as if made of gold. 

The bust upon Shakespeare's tomb 
does not strikingly resemble the pictures 
of him with which we are familiar. His 
face has apparently been idealized as the 
years have gone on. 

We went to Oxford and walked rever- 
ently beneath its overshadowing trees 
and into the halls of Christchurch and 
were thrilled with the memory of the 
great and good who had there lived and 
studied and toiled. It is a great place 
to have one's bump of veneration 
rapidly developed. London, busy, bust- 
ling London, detained me for three 
weeks, my companion contenting him- 
self with two. Our first resort was 
to Westminster Abbey where we reveled 
in the great associations of the place, 
gazing awestruck upon the tombs of 
British monarchs, and with even deeper 
emotion upon the mementos of authors 
and scientists whose names had been 

113 



Experiences and Observations 

familiar to us all our lives. Many parts 
of the great city we visited, and came to 
understand in some measure what an 
amazing metropolis it is. We went to 
Windsor and passed through the abode 
of kings and became somewhat familiar 
with the splendors of- royalty. 

At length we made the trip to Paris, 
crossing the English Channel when it 
was upset from end to end and seemed 
to take a grim delight in upsetting us. 
But Paris was beautiful, and we rejoiced 
in its glories for a week, visiting its 
great cathedrals, the tomb of Napoleon, 
the Grand Opera House, etc. We also 
went down to Versailles and admired the 
vast display of expended money that was 
torn from the oppressed people. Very 
real to us there seemed some of the 
scenes of the French Revolution. Re- 
turning to England, my brother was 
obliged to leave me. I recall the loneli- 
ness that oppressed me as he departed, 
and I felt myself almost without an ac- 
quaintance on the eastern continent. But 
after a little I went up to Edinburgh and 
spent a week there, making a tour 
through the beautiful lakes and visiting 
Sir Walter Scott's home and Roslyn 
Chapel and whatever in that region is of 

114 



My Waterbury Pastorate 

historic or aesthetic interest. Thence on 
to Glasgow and Paisley and then Liver- 
pool and home. Only about two months 
were occupied in the entire journey, but 
it had afforded me a glimpse of a new 
world. I could understand the meaning 
of a lady who, returning from a Eu- 
ropean trip, said to me, "I don't see 
what this country was ever settled for." 
She had found entire satisfaction of mind 
and heart on the other side of the 
Atlantic. 

But it was delightful to be again at 
home and at work amid familiar scenes. 
A large church reception was held on the 
evening of my arrival, and I was im- 
pressed anew with the kindness of my 
people. A new attractiveness manifested 
itself in familiar toils. On many Sunday 
evenings thereafter I detailed the scenes 
and experiences of my trip, taking pains 
not to say too often, "When I was in 
Europe," after the manner of some 
travelers. 

Two years later, in 1889, a facial pa- 
ralysis twisted my usually fair coun- 
tenance out of shape, and in 1891 my 
head, never very strong, gave out, and 
between the two I was absent from 
Waterbury for some months. But the 

115 



Experiences and Observations 

kindness and generosity of the people 
failed not. 

It was once said to me t>y a member of 
another church, " There is only one thing 
lacking in our pastor; he never had a 
sorrow." That could not be said of me. 
My life in Waterbury has been singularly 
full of bereavement, not only of the 
many friends that have gone but of the 
kindred nearest and dearest to me on 
earth. In 1883 while I was preaching 
on "Barnabas the son of consolation,' ' 
in the old church, my mother died down 
by the sea. The following year my sis- 
ter's husband, who had been my guardian, 
passed away. His wife followed in 1890, 
and my other sister and her husband in 
1895. 

When the Spanish-American War be- 
gan in April, 1898, our only and well- 
beloved son was eager to have a part 
in it. A regiment of engineers was or- 
ganized in New York and he promised 
to go with it as a lieutenant in one of 
the companies. But when he came home 
and told us of it, I persuaded him not 
to go and thus save his invalid mother 
the anxiety that would inevitably be hers 
if he should become a soldier. And so 
he seemed to abandon the idea. At home 

116 



My Waterbury Pastorate 

over the Fourth of July, he made no al- 
lusion to the matter. But near the last 
of that month he telephoned me from 
New York, saying that his regiment had 
not gone and asking if we eared then if 
he should go with it, since the war was 
so early ended. He said that he needed 
a rest and change and this would give 
him both. The historical bearings of the 
war were to be so great that he longed 
to have a part in it. I told him that if 
he felt so about it, we would not stand 
in his way. 

And so he went to the camp at Peeks- 
kill, and within a week or two, without 
coming home, sailed for Porto Eico with 
General Miles. All seemed to go well 
with him, except that now and then he 
complained of the food and of the 
weather, which was alternately a deluge 
and a sunburst, since it was the rainy 
season when everything was flooded, al- 
though the climate was exceedingly hot. 
We heard from him at brief intervals and 
he was always bright and cheerful, char- 
acteristically so. But on the twenty- 
fourth of October a message came by 
cable: "Davenport suddenly develops 
serious typhoid. Have you any direc- 
tions to give?" The answer flew back 

117 



Experiences and Observations 

under the sea, "No, only that everything 
possible be done for him." Immediately 
came the reply, "Everything possible is 
being done: medical equipment com- 
plete." But October 26, two days later, 
another message threaded the Atlantic: 
"Davenport died this noon; will send 
body by first transport." Of the three 
weeks' waiting before the lifeless form 
came back, of the sad meeting of it down 
by the statue of "Liberty Enlightening 
the World," of the heart-breaking home- 
coming and the great funeral in the 
church, I cannot speak. Our boy had 
gone, and although friends were unspeak- 
ably kind, and our house was a bower of 
bloom for weeks and the lilies and roses 
hung upon our door from October 27 to 
November 15, and everything was done 
that loving hearts could devise to com- 
fort us, the crushing fact remained. The 
head that I had pillowed upon my heart 
was laid low, and the bright young spirit, 
so full of ambition and aspiration, had 
flown. 

The world seemed very empty and 
dreaiy, but I said that I must show my 
people how to bear affliction, and so I 
tried to be patient and sunny as he would 
have had me be. With him my family 

118 



My Waterbury Pastorate 

name would die out from the earth, as 
he was the only one of my father's de- 
scendants to perpetuate it. His going 
left a vacancy in the heart of my wife 
and myself that could never be filled. 
His mother had a very vivid dream of 
meeting him upon the shore of a sea and 
sailing with him to the Isles of the 
Blessed, and the comfort it gave her for 
many weeks was very perceptible. She 
lived for thirteen years after he had gone, 
unable to walk, bearing pain the most of 
the time, but as a rule cheerful and 
submissive. And then, November 6, 1911, 
she followed the dear boy into the un- 
seen, and greater desolation was left to 
me. And yet, she had suffered so long 
that it seemed almost wrong to grieve 
over her release. I think of them to- 
gether, learning the heights and depths of 
joy to be found in that immortality of 
love which, as we believe, lies beyond 
these earthly woes. Will they welcome 
me at length? Is it not true that the 
years in Waterbury have been years of 
bereavement and of tears? 

As I glance back over the thirty-five 
years in Waterbury, there are several 
points that stand forth with peculiar 
brightness. One of these was the cele- 

119 



Experiences and Observations 

bration of the pastor's fiftieth birthday 
anniversary. The affair was largely a 
surprise, gotten up by our assistant, Mr. 
Frank C. Baker, who was ably aided by 
many gentlemen and ladies of the church. 
The audience room was filled with the 
people of our own parish, and various 
others, among them several from the 
Park Street Church in Bridgeport. Mr. 
L. J. Atwood presided. A fine address 
was given by the Hon. S. W. Kellogg, 
and interesting remarks were made by 
Deacon A. L. Winton, Deacon F. W. 
Storrs and John S. Wooster of the Park 
City. Of course the pastor was obliged 
to respond, but being taken unawares 
failed to distinguish himself by any dis- 
play of oratory. A book containing the 
names of over a thousand of his people 
was presented to him, a treasure that is 
carefully cherished. Its very flattering 
introduction is as follows: 

To the Rev. John G. Davenport, our Beloved Pastor 

" Your people with one accord and with hearts full of 
love towards you, desire to express their cordial congratu- 
lations on the arrival of your fiftieth birthday. They know 
how much you love them, for it is manifest in every hour 
of your daily walk and your daily work among them, in 
the service of the Divine Master. They cannot let this 
day pass without attesting their love for you and their 
appreciation of your good work among them, during the 
years you have been with them, in the Second Congre- 
gational Church of Waterbury, Connecticut. 

120 



My Waterbury Pastorate 

"They greet you on this auspicious occasion with a 
brother's and a sister's love, and their hearts leap forth to 
meet you with blessings and fervent prayers that many 
returns of this happy day may find you in health and 
unabated vigor in your work among them. 

Waterbury, November &£, 1890." 

In the book are many autographs of 
dear friends now gone from us. In addi- 
tion to this a generous gift in gold and 
silver was presented, some of it from 
Park Street friends. Refreshments were 
served to the large number gathered, 
there was music and the occasion was 
one of great social freedom and interest. 
The congregation was brought together 
in a happy way, and the pastor was will- 
ing to be fifty years old if the fact could 
bring such a demonstration of affection 
for him and of the mutual regard of all 
present. Mrs. Davenport, who was un- 
able to attend, was visited by a delega- 
tion of ladies, including Mrs. A. S. 
Chase, who carried to her a beautiful cut 
glass rose bowl containing fifty speci- 
mens of the " queen of flowers." The 
roses filled our home with fragrance and 
the heart of their recipient with grati- 
tude and gladness. The bowl is kept as 
a choice possession, linking us and her 
with that rare evening of the long ago. 
121 



Experiences and Observations 

A few words of Mr. Kellogg 's address 
may be quoted: 

"Two weeks ago yesterday was the 
anniversary of your installation as pas- 
tor of this church. You had been with 
us only nine years; and the wonderful 
growth of this church during this brief 
period abundantly testifies to your faith- 
ful and earnest work in the Master's ser- 
vice. All this growth has come by the 
blessing of God, without which all the 
labor of man is fruitless. You told us 
in beautiful language in your sermon 
that morning, that when you came among 
us you were in the old age of youth, but 
now you are in the youth of old age. 
Some of us can realize the force of that 
sentiment better than you. Some of us 
have left the old age of youth much far- 
ther behind in the course of life than 
you. We trust that your sun is still high 
in the meridian. We trust it is only Au- 
gust with you. We trust that the full 
fruitage of your labors and the crowning 
glories of a golden and abundant harvest 
in the Master's vineyard are yet to come. 
But the youth of old age, may it be yours 
through life. There should always be 
the growth of old age until mind and 
body are both worn out. We live again 

122 



My Waterbury Pastorate 

in our children and grandchildren, and 
the older we grow the broader and ten- 
derer should be our sympathies. Shake- 
speare has drawn a beautiful picture of 
old age, with ' honor, love, obedience, 
troops of friends' attending it. Until the 
infirmities of advancing years break up 
all sources of enjoyment, there should 
always be youth in old age. Your people 
deeply regret that the partner of your 
joys and sorrows cannot be here to share 
the pleasures of this evening with you, 
owing to her long continued illness, and 
their congratulations to you this evening 
are tempered and softened with a sincere 
sympathy for her sufferings. Bear this 
bowl of roses to her with their tender 
expressions of sympathy, and their 
prayers for her speedy restoration to 
health. May it be filled and bloom with 
roses for her and her household for long 
years to come. For you and for her 
there is another little surprise. Your 
people beg you to accept as a slight 
token of their love and esteem this plate 
of gold. Though it is gold it is not to 
be hidden and hoarded away in a nap- 
kin, but is to spend and be spent in 
whatever may best conduce to her 
health and comfort and yours. Though 

123 



Experiences and Observations 

it is fine gold, it is not as pure or 
precious as the love you bear this people, 
and the love they bear to you." 

Another occasion of special interest 
was the celebration of the pastor's com- 
pletion of twenty-five years in Water- 
bury, September" 16 and 17, 1906. The 
arrangements were mostly made without 
his knowledge, and were admirably car- 
ried out by the junior pastor, Rev. H. 
DeW. Williams, and other members of 
the church and congregation. On Sun- 
day morning, the sixteenth, the sanctuary 
was beautiful with flowers and throbbing 
with sweetest music. The pastor gave a 
simple review of the quarter of a cen- 
tury, using the text, "Blessed be Jehovah 
for He hath showed me His marvelous 
loving kindness in a strong city." He 
referred to the changes about the Green 
that had taken place as typical of the 
growth and progress of the city, and 
spoke of the building of the new sanctu- 
ary as the most important outward event 
in the life of the church during the 
period under consideration. In the Sun- 
day School kindly words were spoken by 
Mr. Williams and others to which the 
pastor responded. 

Sunday evening all the Congregational 
124 



My Waterbury Pastorate 

churches of the city united in our ser- 
vices, their pastors assisting. Rev. 
Sherrod Soule of Naugatuck read a beau- 
tifully written paper, in which he be- 
stowed more praise upon the minister 
than he could possibly have deserved. 
Brief addresses were made by Dr. Dins- 
more, Rev. W. H. Phipps, Dr. Franklin 
Carter, Dr. A. P. Foster and Mr. Wil- 
liams, who presided. A brotherly letter 
from Dr. Anderson was read. The pas- 
tor made a few closing remarks and 
offered prayer. He said that he knew no 
such man as the brethren had been de- 
scribing, but took it that they were think- 
ing of the ideal to which each of them 
aspired and so told us whatt it was. On 
Monday evening a reception was given 
by the pastor and his wife in the church 
parlors which was attended by many 
hundreds of people from our own and 
other parishes. Mr. "Williams in a very 
happy manner presided and introduced 
the various ministerial brethren who 
spoke to us, viz., Rev. John N. Lewis of 
St. John's Church, Rev. F. D. Buckley 
of Trinity, Rev. F. D. Walter of the 
First Methodist, and Rev. W. J. Slocum 
of the Church of the Immaculate Concep- 
tion, all of whom charmed us with their 

125 



Experiences and Observations 

wise and witty and gracious words. Dr. 
Haywood of the First Baptist Church 
sent an interesting letter. 

A fine "loving cup," filled with gold 
and silver and apparently overflowing 
with the kindness of the people was pre- 
sented, three little girls placing it in the 
pastor's hands. He tried to express his 
appreciation of all the kindness shown 
and his profound gratitude for it, but 
could not do it very effectively because 
of the emotion that choked his speech. 
Refreshments were served, and the occa- 
sion proved to be socially delightful. It 
was the silver wedding of church and 
pastor, gratifying to the latter in very 
many respects. It was good to know 
that the long flight of years had seem- 
ingly had no power to destroy the peo- 
ple's confidence and affection; 1906 
spoke back to 1890, and the language of 
the former was apparently in entire har- 
mony with that of the latter, although 
the setting and the personnel of the two 
occasions were so different. The pres- 
ence of Dr. A. P. Foster, whom Mr. Wil- 
liams had invited, was very gratifying. 
His address on Sunday evening was re- 
freshing, especially when he said that he 
wished to assure the people that their 

126 



My Waterbury Pastorate 

pastor was not quite perfect. His words 
broke the monotony of eulogy which had 
become excessive and embarrassing. The 
next time we met was at his wife's 
funeral, four months later. And four 
months later still, in June, 1907, I had 
the melancholy task of attending his 
funeral. 

In the year 1873, while pastor in 
Bridgeport, there came to me a call to 
the pastorate of the First Church of 
Danbury. The field was a very attrac- 
tive one, but the growing church in 
Bridgeport seemed to need me and I felt 
obliged to decline the call. Deacon Win- 
ton showed so much emotion at the 
thought of my going, that had there been 
no other reason I had no heart to leave. 
I think it was in 1874 that I was invited 
to become pastor of the North Pres- 
byterian Church in Binghamton, N. Y. 
Then in January, 1895, a telegram came 
across the continent asking if I would 
accept a unanimous call to the First 
Church of Pasadena, California. The 
church had a membership of about three 
hundred and was in a very flourishing 
condition. The climate was very attrac- 
tive to my invalid wife and seemed to 
offer a great incentive for a removal to 
127 



Experiences and Observations 

the Pacific coast. Yet there were appar- 
ently greater reasons for remaining in 
Waterbury. And so I replied in part as 
follows : 

"I deeply appreciate the kindness of 
your people in being willing to accept a 
man as their pastor without seeing him 
or hearing his voice. On some accounts 
I should be glad to go and dwell among 
you, and in your comparatively new 
country help lay the foundations of 
Church and State, and have some share, 
however slight, in molding the senti- 
ment that shall mean purity and prosper- 
ity to your beautiful commonwealth in all 
the coming time. 

"But after carefully and prayerfully 
considering the matter, I am convinced 
that for the present it is my duty to re- 
main in Waterbury. Providentially, as 
it would seem, I have here come into a 
work of such dimensions and importance 
that I dare not leave it without clearer 
indications that such is the divine will. 
Our church now numbers nearly 1,000 
members and holds a prominent place 
among the moral and religious forces of 
the city. It is building an expensive 
sanctuary, of which it has not yet taken 
possession. Great opportunities are 

128 



My Waterbury Pastorate 

open before it and great responsibilities 
rest upon it. Dear as it has become to 
me after my more than thirteen years 
of participation in its aspirations and 
hopes, I cannot feel that it would be 
right for me to leave it at this most in- 
teresting point in its history. A few 
of its officers with whom I have con- 
versed regarding the matter express the 
opinion that for me to do so would be 
prejudicial to its interests. 

"Personally I may say that I some- 
what doubt my adaptation to a field so 
different from any with which I am 
familiar. Born in Connecticut, I have 
had two pastorates of thirteen years 
each, both within thirty-five miles of my 
birthplace. Accustomed only to New 
England methods, I might not prove sat- 
isfactory to a church upon the Pacific 
coast. Certainly it would require years 
for me to secure the influence for good 
which seems now to have been placed in 
my hands. Considering the whole mat- 
ter impartially, believing that the pos- 
sible benefit to the health of my family 
that the change might give is yet prob- 
lematical, I have concluded that I cannot 
accept your invitation. ' ' 

Possibly it would have been wise had 
129 



Experiences and Observations, 

we gone, but at that time I could not see 
the way clear to do it. My wife was 
somewhat inclined to make the change, 
yet I had said and done so much regard- 
ing the new church that it seemed im- 
possible for me to leave it just before its 
completion. Perhaps it would have been 
best for me to resign my pastorate after 
the conclusion of the quarter of a cen- 
tury, but those to whom I spoke regard- 
ing it said, "No, we don't want you to 
go. You must stay and celebrate your 
fiftieth anniversary !" As I was in very 
fair condition of body and mind and 
knew no special reason why the sacred 
ties that bound us should be ruptured, 
I concluded that if possible I would 
complete thirty years in the Waterbury 
pastorate. This, my desire and inten- 
tion, I made known to the officers of the 
church. 

As the years hurried on and the ap- 
pointed time came near, a committee of 
church and society looked about for the 
man to fill the place, and located him 
after a little in one of the churches of 
New Haven. For six months he came 
as Associate Pastor, and then on the 
thirtieth anniversary of my coming 
hither assumed the full pastorate, while 

130 



My Waterbury Pastorate 

I became Pastor Emeritus. Of course 
it is a trying experience for a man to 
feel that practically his life work is done, 
and that he must give over to the care 
of another interests that have been to 
him most dear. But I determined to 
face the inevitable in a calm and cour- 
ageous spirit, and the action of the soci- 
ety in making abundant provision for 
my welfare filled my heart with so much 
gratitude that it was easy to comply with 
its requirements. I suspect that very 
few pastors have been treated with the 
kindness and generosity, the indulgence 
and the affection that have been so freely 
accorded me. "Not more than others I 
deserve," in fact, not so much as many 
others, but it has been my happy lot to 
fall in with church officials and with 
parishes of rare consideration and ap- 
preciation. How I wish that I might 
have been worthier of all the favor 
received ! 

Upon leaving the parsonage which for 
fifteen years had been our "sweet home," 
we obtained a residence on Chestnut 
Avenue, one block away from the trolley 
cars and yet convenient to the business 
section of the city. On a shaded street, 
in a delightful neighborhood, quiet and 
131 



Experiences and Observations 

comfortable, it was a location admirably- 
fitted to furnish my invalid the peace and 
refreshing atmosphere that she required. 
In view of past experiences and of hopes 
for the future we christened our home, 
"Twilight Rest." But the dear invalid 
remained in it but for forty days, when 
she left me for another habitation, "even 
an heavenly." Among her last words 
were those of Whittier, 

" And so, beside the silent sea 
I wait the muffled oar, 
No harm from Him can come to me," 

and there her memory failed. Upon her 
memorial stone in our beautiful River- 
side, one reads today that second line, 

11 I wait the muffled oar." 

During the thirty years of my pastor- 
ate it was a joy to me to see the church 
not only continually increasing in num- 
bers, but united, progressive, strong, 
sympathetic, patriotic, taking a foremost 
part in all the humanitarian and benevo- 
lent work of the city, and furnishing 
generous gifts for the establishment of 
Christ's kingdom in this and other lands. 
Its relations with the other churches of 
the city, of all denominations, were most 
cordial and fraternal. On the evening 

132 



My Waterbury Pastorate 

after the dedication of the church, while 
many pastors of the city churches were 
upon the platform, the minister said: 

" What we contend for most of all is 
liberty of judgment and of conscience, 
that for which our fathers struggled and 
which has come to us as a priceless 
heritage. The same liberty that we claim 
for ourselves we must accord to others. 
We know that our brethren are just as 
competent as we to interpret Christianity 
and to learn the mind of the Spirit. We 
look at these matters through glasses 
differently colored. We differ in tem- 
perament, in education, in heritage and 
various other things. God in His crea- 
tion of us made us to differ. I believe 
that he loves variety. We see this among 
the flowers, one rose red, the other white ; 
among the gems, the stars that differ in 
glory and among all things in nature. 
Some of us like a good deal of authority 
— especially when we exercise it; some 
little— especially when we are the objects. 
Some prefer much form and ceremony; 
others little. Brother Elsdon might not 
like this font; I am satisfied with it. He 
would prefer that the space under the 
pulpit be a little more capacious; I have 
respect for his opinion. I suppose 

133 



Experiences and Observations 

Brother Pike [the Adventist pastor] 
thinks it foolish to build such a sub- 
stantial house. He believes that God is 
soon coming to take the people away. 
We don't expect Him so soon, although 
we should be glad to see Him. Dr. Row- 
land prefers the prayers perfumed with 
the faith and devotion of the ancient 
saints. We, on the whole, like the simple, 
spontaneous utterance of the heart. Our 
greatest desire is not to build up this 
Second Congregational Church, but 
through it to build up the Kingdom of 
(rod. We wish to bring all the privileges 
and advantages afforded by this new 
sanctuary and devote them to the 
furtherance of righteousness, peace and 
joy in this growing community. We 
wish to work with you, beloved, for the 
crushing out of all evil and the promo- 
tion of all good. We right willingly 
pledge our hearts and hands for the 
furtherance of all Christian work in this 
city." 

Figures, if they "do not lie," are by 
no means always conclusive, but some- 
times they afford a hint as to what has 
claimed one's time and strength, and of 
what one has been laboring to accom- 
plish. It afforded me great satisfaction 

134 



My Waterbury Pastorate 

to receive into the Waterbury church 
1,590 persons. Its membership, Sept. 
17, 1881, was 558. Sept. 17, 1911, it 
was 1,147, having more than doubled. 
I baptized 342 adults and 841 children, 
a total of 1,183. I have united in mar- 
riage 1,149 couples, and officiated at 1,350 
funerals. Two hundred and seventy- 
eight funerals in Bridgeport make the 
sad total, 1,628. One hundred and fifty- 
six marriages in Bridgeport make the 
glad total 1,305. In Bridgeport 558 came 
into the church, the same number that 
were in the Waterbury church when I 
came, making 2,148 whom I have had the 
honor of receiving into church fellowship. 



135 



SOME GENERAL OBSERVATIONS 

After nearly a half century in the 
ministry, I can look back and perceive 
in a measure the motive and method that 
have characterized it, and that have 
shaped and tinted my life. As to my 
theological attitude, I may say that I 
have never had time to be a theologian, 
although I have had and still have some- 
what positive convictions. 

Brought up under strong Calvinistic 
influences, I was early fed upon the 
strong meat of divine decrees and 
the dried beef of the other points of the 
Genevan theology. The Calvinistic sys- 
tem seemed to me in my youth as well- 
jointed and complete as any piece of 
medieval armor. As a boy I sometimes 
argued for its beauty and reasonableness 
to my own entire satisfaction. But under 
the influence of Dr. Hopkins in his "Law 
of Love and Love as a Law," I began to 
take a somewhat different view of the 
premises of ultra- Calvinism and thus to 
question some of its conclusions. Yet 

137 



Experiences and Observations 

for many years, even until after I came 
to Waterbury, I was fairly well satisfied 
with substantially the current theology 
of fifty years ago. My first sermon had 
been upon God's love as inspiring ours, 
"We love Him because He first loved 
us," and my second upon God's sov- 
ereignty as underlying human activity, 
Acts xxvii : 22, 31. 

However, from my study of the Bible 
and of humanity I began at length to be 
conscious that many of the old views 
failed to appeal to me as they once did. 
From God in His governmental to God 
in His personal, fatherly relations my 
mind gradually drifted, thus giving me a 
different standpoint from which to judge 
the doctrines and causing me to see them 
at a different angle. My growing per- 
ception of the wondrous love of God 
caused me to cherish the "larger hope" 
regarding the destiny of mankind, the 
hope, not dogma, that "somehow good 
will be the future goal of ill," while not 
pretending to know how this could come 
about. It seemed to me that Christ 
meant something important when he 
represented the Shepherd as seeking the 
lost sheep "until he find it." That God's 
"mercy endureth forever" I could never 

138 



Some General Observations 

doubt. When the later views of the con- 
stitution of the Bible became public I 
was somewhat prejudiced against them, 
but believing that intellectual honesty- 
demanded candid investigation of all 
alleged truth, I carefully examined them 
and was forced to believe that much that 
devout scholarship has presented is un- 
doubtedly true. 

The books of Dr. Bushnell and Dr. 
Washington Gladden were of great help 
to me. I never, however, found occasion 
to dwell in the pulpit upon that which 
might upset any one's faith in the in- 
spired writings, at the same time that 
the newer conceptions underlay and col- 
ored my thought. To my mind the dis- 
covery of the human elements in the 
Bible but brings into clearer relief the 
superhuman character of Jesus of Naza- 
reth. Many say that after he was gone 
he was idealized by his disciples, but 
their opinion of him could by no means 
account for the immense influence which 
he has exerted upon every department of 
human existence, for the revolutionary 
power with which he has touched count- 
less individuals and nations. I do not 
believe that the consciousness of the 
Christian centuries and of millions of 
139 



Experiences and Observations 

human hearts as to the personality and 
presence and might of the living Christ 
is to be set aside as unworthy the accep- 
tance of this enlightened age. I believe 
that in the Lord Jesus, we have the self- 
revealing God, expressing Himself in 
terms of humanity, and so worthy of all 
the honor that the ages have heaped 
upon him. 

A fact in this connection that has been 
of great importance to me may be of 
interest. I early discovered that Christ, 
in words whose genuineness, I think, has 
never been questioned, said to those who 
should declare his message, "Go, preach 
the Gospel to every creature, and lo, I 
am with you all the days." No utter- 
ance of the great Master has been of 
greater practical value to me than this. 
When the dark days have come, the days 
that involved severe labor, that devolved 
upon me tasks heavier, as it seemed, than 
I could bear, days in the study when the 
necessity to write was upon me and the 
mind was blank and the heart cold, days 
in the pulpit when a sense of inadequacy 
pressed hard upon me, days in the parish 
when trying scenes were to be encoun- 
tered, when advice or consolation was to 
be given under forbidding condi- 

140 



Some General Observations 

tions, when puzzling problems were to 
be solved, when enterprises were to be 
launched regarding whose appropriate 
shape there was question — in all these 
cases and many others, those words of 
the divine Redeemer have been to me not 
only a source of assurance and of com- 
fort, but of actual help, consciously re- 
ceived, inspiring, enlightening, sustain- 
ing, and the task that seemed so difficult 
often became easy and in the hour when 
it was needed the right word was often 
given me to speak. If I have secured 
anything of success in the ministry, the 
secret of it lies largely here. In the two 
churches in which it was my privilege to 
minister, I sought to unveil for all Chris- 
tian workers that august and glorious 
Presence, whose accepted fellowship 
makes the Christian service a thing of 
warmth and light and strength and joy; 
and many a youth and many a burdened 
man and woman has come to say, "I can 
do all things in Him that strengtheneth 
me." 

As to the themes which one should 
make prominent in his preaching, I have 
never thought that these should be the 
same for all. Personal characteristics, 
the make-up of the preacher, together 

141 



Experiences and Observations 

with the experiences of his life, often 
determine not only the manner of his 
speaking but the substance of his dis- 
courses. President Finney felt himself 
called upon to set forth the law which 
with infinite weight of obligation presses 
upon every soul. Henry Ward Beecher, 
on the other hand, with matchless skill 
interpreted the everlasting love of God 
manifest in Christ. Phillips Brooks, 
when asked what he intended to preach 
in Westminster Abbey, responded, "I 
have but one sermon.' ' This was his 
exposition, in varied phase, of the ful- 
ness and efficiency of the Father's grace. 
Each helped humanity and did it in his 
own way. God designed it to be thus 
when he set every soul at a somewhat 
different angle toward the eternal truth. 
Every flower radiates the light that falls 
upon it from the sun, but one reflects the 
red ray and another the blue. Each tells 
a part of the glory enwrapped in the 
sunbeam. Each is true to the law of its 
own being. 

Some have said that in the pulpit in 
which I presided, there have been too 
few echoes of Sinai; that the severe 
matters of law and sin and retribution 
have not been sufficiently dwelt upon; 

142 



Some General Observations 

that the love side has been presented, 
not too powerfully but too exclusively. 
In reply I have reverently quoted the 
words of the Master: "I have not spoken 
of myself: the Father which sent me, He 
gave me a commandment, what I should 
say and what I should speak." To me 
the Gospel means "good news." It is 
the announcement that for us all in this 
sinful, weary world, there is help; into 
whatever trouble we may have fallen, 
there is hope for our deliverance, a 
shining way close at hand into which we 
may step and which we may follow to 
the highest heaven. The world well 
knows its unrest, the bitterness of the 
cup of pain and remorse often pressed 
to its lips. It does not always know that 
"underneath are the everlasting arms," 
that the sympathy of heaven is sweeter 
and softer than the breath of sunny 
lands, that in the heart of God are tire- 
less tenderness, parental patience and 
affection that watch and wait and en- 
dure, that in the midst of its sin it is 
overshadowed by the purity and per- 
fection of the Kingly Christ. 

It is this chance for every one, based 
upon the fathomless love divine, that in 
some measure has been shown to me, and 

143 



Experiences and Observations 

I have been constrained to present, not 
exclusively but with special emphasis, 
that phase of truth. My eyes have been 
directed toward the light rather than the 
gloom, toward righteousness rather than 
sin, toward the glory of the Christ rather 
than the awful depths of darkness that 
lie away from him. Because I have be- 
lieved that immortal Love is upon the 
throne, and that its pulses are throbbing 
through all life and all time, it has been 
difficult for me to cherish pessimistic 
views, to maintain that the clouds that 
often enshroud us have no resplendent 
lining. If I have placed too few shadows 
in the picture, it is because I have be- 
lieved that the Gospel is not shadow but 
sunshine. 

One who would form any just estimate 
of my utterances must take into account 
a certain fact; namely, that I was born 
with "a jingle in my brain," which I 
have never been able either to extirpate 
or to suppress. Spending my early 
years as a farmer's boy amid the pic- 
turesque scenery of our old Nutmeg 
State, I was unusually sensitive to the 
beauty of hill and dale, and my enthusi- 
asm over the fragrant meadows where 
the brooklets sang and the butterflies 

144 



Some General Observations 

and the bobolinks made merry, as over 
the shaded slopes and uplands where the 
cattle grazed, and the woods whose 
columns marked for me aisles of a cathe- 
dral decked with many a rare blossom, 
often found expression in verse, crude 
but soulful. On the rocks in the wood- 
land and by the rippling river I was 
somehow forced by an inward impulse 
to write the rhymes or the poetic prose 
that embodied the untrained emotion of 
my undisciplined nature. College life, 
with its introduction to classic models, 
quickened and deepened the tendencies 
within me that were ever urging toward 
utterance of this sort. And so it came 
about that both at the biennial and at 
the graduating celebration I was the 
chosen poet of my Class. 

During my two city pastorates with 
their exacting toils the embedded fire 
has not been quenched but nourished, 
and has added brightness as well as com- 
fort to the busy years. Truth has pre- 
sented itself to my mind in figure and 
picture rather than in syllogism. In my 
weariness the writing of a sonnet has 
often given me rest of body and mind. 
I have very many times been called upon 
to celebrate in verse church and town 

145 



Experiences and Observations 

anniversaries, and in the same manner 
to participate in local and state meetings 
of patriotic and benevolent societies. 
Many of these poems have found a place 
in the annals of New England. From all 
this it must not be inferred that I con- 
sider myself very much of a poet, but 
simply that my mind is of the poetic 
rather than the philosophic type. 

The elusive metaphysics and subtle 
logic in which some of the brethren revel 
are largely beyond my capacity, while I 
may arrive at the same conclusions, al- 
though reaching them in another way. It 
is difficult for me to write without having 
something of the glint of imagination upon 
the page. I remember that a man once 
said that after hearing one of my sermons, 
in which perhaps the ideal was presented, 
he went out and found that he was still 
in the same old world! Yet it may have 
been a good thing for him to have had 
a glimpse of something different. If in 
any case the method of presentation has 
misinterpreted the truth and led one in- 
tellectually astray, the method of course 
was blameworthy. But I have been glad 
that my mind was so constituted that I 
could see plain facts in their wider rela- 
tions, thus presenting aspects that were 

146 



Some General Observations 

sometimes more suggestive of that realm 
of beauty which lies all about us, but 
which our oft unanointed eyes fail to 
discern. 

While a pastor in Bridgeport, in com- 
pany with a friend I visited the famous 
phrenologist, Prof. 0. S. Fowler. As he 
felt of my cranium he said, " Young man, 
you have one weak spot in your head." 
"Well," said I, "I'm glad if there's only 
one." He went on to say that I was 
lacking in self-confidence, that "no doubt 
it had robbed me of half my life's suc- 
cesses." Whatever we may think of 
phrenology, whether or not it be a sci- 
ence, there can be no question that there 
was some foundation for the Professor's 
remark. It is true that a certain diffi- 
dence has often kept me silent when I 
should have spoken, held me in the back- 
ground when I might better have gone 
forward, and repressed me in many 
ways. It is the same shrinking from 
publicity that almost kept me away 
from college and out of the ministry. It 
has been a trial to me all my life. Much 
that I have done has been accomplished 
through a persistent purpose to over- 
come it. It has made my preaching less 
forcible than it ought to have been, and 
. 147 



Experiences and Observations 

has prevented me from accepting various 
invitations to hold forth in what I 
thought would be trying situations. 
I don't know that one who is hampered 
in this way is altogether responsible for 
it. It is a peculiarity that seems 
wrought into one's constitution. Possi- 
bly it is an inheritance from some dread- 
fully backward ancestor. Of course one 
ought to resist its suggestions so far as 
they would hinder him from doing the 
best work and exercising the widest in- 
fluence. I have always envied those who, 
confident of their own ability, have gone 
forward without hesitation to perform 
whatever duty or service invited them. 
That there are such we well know. Some 
of my own classmates and friends were 
of that sort. Sometimes I have thought 
that they made themselves a little too 
conspicuous, but on the whole they have 
made a success of life. As one who has 
suffered from a fettering distrust of his 
own competence, I advise all who are 
similarly afflicted to fight against its in- 
fluence and to persist in doing just that 
which it forbids. Had I acted upon this 
advice in my youth and persisted in my 
riper years I might have accomplished 
far more than I have been able to do. 

148 



Some General Observations 

As to the employment of one's time 
and strength in the ministry I always be- 
lieved that they belonged to the church 
rather than to myself, and so I sought, 
at whatever personal sacrifice, to put 
official duty first. As a consequence I 
stood at my post rather constantly, per- 
haps more than was necessary or desir- 
able, somewhat reluctantly accepting 
vacation leisure and frequently returning 
when away to perform some service for 
the dead or the living. Probably this 
would not be the best for all, but blessed 
as I ordinarily was with a good degree 
of physical vigor, I found greater satis- 
faction in this than in a different course. 

At the beginning of my ministry I 
heard Dr. Leonard Bacon say, "The man 
that wants to see me is the man that I 
want to see." It seemed to me that such 
a maxim, coming from such a man, was a 
desirable one to accept. And I made it, 
measurably, the rule of my ministerial 
life. As a consequence I gave no little 
time and strength to all sorts of char- 
acters, many of them unattractive and 
unpromising from many points of view. 
Yet I could never get away from the 
idea that they were human, and gra- 
ciously loved by the Master, nor forget 

149 



Experiences and Observations 

that the Christ who gladly ministered to 
the humblest and worst was the Christ 
with me "all the days," who would have 
me meet them, with him, for his sake. 
And I tried as best I could to help them 
in such ways as were possible. If I was 
the means of leading one in twenty or 
even in fifty of them to a sober, indus- 
trious, moral life, I do not regret the 
labor spent. Effort in behalf of those 
needing work received no little attention, 
until in my family my "employment 
bureau" became a standing joke, and very 
likely among employers a standing nui- 
sance. The letters I have written to 
them in the interest of the unemployed 
would fill volumes. My good friend Dr. 
Anderson declared that my interest in 
and attention to people of the class re- 
ferred to was simply a waste of my life. 
It did not then seem so to me, and does 
not now, although the same amount of 
effort bestowed in some other direction 
might have yielded more evident results. 
I cannot say that I regret any endeavor 
that I have ever put forth with an 
earnest desire to assist a fellow mortal, 
notwithstanding the fact that I have 
many times no doubt been imposed 
upon. These impositions would furnish 

150 



Some General Observations 

a good foundation for an interesting tale, 
and some time I may write up some of 
them. 

I always thought it my privilege to 
come into as close and helpful relations 
with my people as possible. With this 
end in view I made it a rule to avail my- 
self of such experiences in their life as 
made them peculiarly sensitive to Chris- 
tian sympathy and thoughtfulness. For 
years I welcomed all the babies in the 
parish with a personal letter, usually in 
rhyme. Some of these epistles I have 
seen framed and hung in the home, and 
many have been read by their recipients 
to their own children. After a time the 
demand became too great for the possi- 
ble supply, as our people were never ad- 
vocates of "race suicide," and recogni- 
tion of the family joy was made in some 
other way. 

Occasions of bridal gladness and of 
funeral grief, of illness or misfortune of 
any sort, furnished opportunity for such 
expression of feeling as tended to bind 
those experiencing them more closely to 
the church. Much use I made of the 
printing press, devising and publishing 
prayer meeting topics, cards for various 
occasions and various people, and in both 
151 



Experiences and Observations 

my churches issuing an annual review of 
the work and experiences of the year 
which seemed to be greatly appreciated. 
"The Park Street Chronicle" and the 
"Second Church Chronicle" took their 
place among the newspapers of the day 
and gladly held on their way, the latter 
certainly continuing to thrive under 
more generous auspices. For ten years 
I prepared the weekly church bulletin, 
because it brought me into a little closer 
touch with the people, affording me a 
chance to say to the shut-ins and others 
the word of cheer and encouragement 
that might not otherwise reach them. 

AVhen I came to Waterbury the city 
was surrounded by a circle of chapels or 
other places at which services were held. 
For eighteen years it was my joy to 
preach once a month to the long-suffer- 
ing people of Oakville, and for thirty 
years to the equally long-suffering 
people of Mill Plain. For thirty 
years, almost without an exception, I 
officiated on Children's Day, Easter and 
Christmas (very often reading a story 
to the children on those occasions) at the 
Mill Plain Chapel. Many times I had 
the pleasure of preaching at the Union 
chapel in Simonsville which preceded the 

152 



Some General Observations . 

building of the Baptist Church, and of 
giving the first sermon that was deliv- 
ered in that church. Buck's Hill, too, 
and Bunker Hill called for my services, 
which were very gladly given. There 
was always a special satisfaction to me 
in speaking at these places where one 
may come so near the hearts of the 
people. Three times during my Water- 
bury pastorate the Second Church has 
swarmed, a goodly number of our 
workers settling down to the task of 
honey-making in Oakville, Bunker Hill 
and the Third Congregational Church. 
It was hard to part with these, for many 
of them were useful and beloved, but it 
seemed to me that even at cost to our- 
selves we ought to encourage those living 
in the out-lying districts to connect them- 
selves with centers of usefulness that 
should there be established and I said 
to them, "Go, and (rod's blessing and 
ours go with you." 

Feeling that the minister, as a repre- 
sentative of the Master, ought to be in 
hearty sympathy with all that tends to 
elevate humanity, for many years I did 
no little work in connection with the tem- 
perance reform. For a while I was asso- 
ciated with the Sons of Temperance, who 

153 



Experiences and Observations 

then seemed to be exerting a strong in- 
fluence in the right direction. In this 
connection I attained even to the exalted 
position of Grand Worthy Patriarch of 
the State of Connecticut, a position 
whose title suggests far greater things 
than it really includes. I found in the 
Grand and National Divisions many men 
and women, broad-minded and philan- 
thropic, with whom it was a pleasure to 
associate. The ritual of the order was 
beautifully written, by whom I do not 
know. The organization in September, 
1917, completes the seventy-fifth year of 
its existence and, strangely enough, I have 
been invited to deliver a poem at the 
celebration of its anniversary in Boston. 
In the year 1893 Mr. Thomas Ed- 
ward Murphy held in our city a tem- 
perance campaign that continued for a 
month. Meetings were held in the old 
Auditorium on South Main Street, and 
were largely attended from the first. As 
the pastors of the city appointed me to 
preside, I w T as in the midst of the move- 
ment from first to last. Mr. Murphy was 
a young man of fine appearance, pos- 
sessed largely of that indefinable quality 
called "magnetism," winning in manner 
and speech and capable of delivering his 

154 



Some General Observations 

message in a very eloquent way. Some 
of his addresses were exceedingly effec- 
tive. A new sentiment regarding the use 
of alcoholic liquors pervaded our city, 
bringing about changes in the personal 
habits of not a few. Over ten thousand 
of our people signed the total abstinence 
pledge, and many who had previously 
indulged were true to its requirements, 
some for a year, some for five years, and 
probably not a few for the rest of their 
lives. Our leader won for himself a 
warm place in many hearts among us 
and will always be Remembered here for 
the good work that he accomplished. 

A while since I sent him the old ser- 
mon that I preached just after he left 
Waterbury, in which was attempted an 
estimate of the value of his efforts in our 
city. Under date of November 13, 1916, 
he wrote: "The campaign in Waterbury 
as outlined by you immediately passed in 
panoramic view before me, and I have 
meditated upon it ever since. I recall 
the whole experience with gladness and 
gratitude, and I regret most keenly and 
deeply that I was not able to continue 
in the labor which gave me and mine the 
greatest satisfaction of our lives." And 
he adds: "Maggie and I are living here 

155 



Experiences and Observations 

in Philadelphia. I am glad to tell you 
that I am a member of the Philadelphia 
Legal Bar, and up to the present, in good 
standing. We have no children — more's 
the pity — but we are traveling along to- 
gether, and approaching the sunset of 
life with the same sweet and lovely com- 
munion and devotion which characterized 
us in the past when you knew us well. 
We try occasionally to throw the life line 
out to any unfortunate in distress, and 
we both regret that we are not more pro- 
ficient in this respect than we are." His 
address is "322-323 North American 
Building, Philadelphia,' ' where I am sure 
he would be glad to hear from any of his 
Waterbury friends. 

After he left, we organized in our 
church a society which we called the 
"Helping Hand," into which were gath- 
ered about one hundred of those who had 
left the ranks of the intemperate for a 
sober life. This flourished in a vigorous 
and helpful way for a long time, the Rev. 
F. M. Hollister acting as its efficient 
head, and no doubt it accomplished con- 
siderable good. 

Then came the Rescue Mission, of 
which for many years Aaron A. Benedict 
was president and I was secretary. Va- 

156 



Some General Observations 

rious superintendents there held forth 
the word of encouragement and hope to 
the fallen, and it is believed that many a 
broken life found the strength needed 
to make it more or less of a success. In 
all such work there come great satisfac- 
tion and great disappointment, so many 
promise so well and then, after a time, 
turn out so ill. But after all there is a 
residuum of good that remains a per- 
petual cause for gratitude. All who de- 
sire the welfare of humanity must rejoice 
in the larger aspects of the temperance 
reform which we have lived to witness. 
Prohibition has thrown its benediction 
over many states of the Union and seems 
likely to enwrap the entire nation in its 
beneficent influence, while other nations 
are coming to realize the immense value 
of abstinence. It would appear that 
King Alcohol is soon to lose his crown. 
May he have no successor to continue 
his cruel reign. 

I always believed that the Church and 
its officers should do what they might to 
develop a patriotic spirit among the 
people. "Patriotism," said George Wil- 
liam Curtis, "is the vital condition of 
national permanence. 9 9 It has its roots 
in the deepest instincts and affections 

157 



Experiences and Observations 

of the heart. It is an extension of the 
love of parents and of home, closely 
allied to the love of humanity and of 
God. In my boyhood home was an old 
sword that some of my predecessors had 
used in the Revolutionary War, and it 
used to speak eloquently to me of that 
great struggle, the boom of whose guns 
had there been heard as Norwalk was 
burned by the British. As a young man 
I was familiar with the commencement 
and the continuance of the Civil War. 
I was a student at the time, but my 
name was in two drafts, although I was 
not taken. It did not seem best for me 
to enlist in the army, not only because 
of my somewhat unwarlike disposition 
but because of the urgent request of my 
mother that her only son remain with 
her. However I was intensely interested 
in the conflict and in those who engaged 
in it. 

As soon as I became a pastor, three 
years after the war, I urged my people 
to observe Decoration Day by honoring 
the dead and the living who had fought 
in our behalf. It was said that our 
church service on one of the first Memo- 
rial days was the first celebration of the 
sort held in the city of Bridgeport. From 

158 



Some General Observations 

that time, so long as I had charge of a 
church, it was my custom habitually to 
observe the Memorial season. The fact 
that my own and only son offered his 
service and his life for country and 
humanity naturally deepened my interest 
in all those matters that pertain to the 
welfare of the nation. When the dear boy 
died, the Grand Army Post of Water- 
bury sent its sympathy and promised 
that so long as the Post existed the grave 
of the young patriot should be decorated 
with the graves of its own members. It 
was a great gratification to me to have 
the Auxiliary of the Spanish War Vet- 
erans adopt for its name "The Clarence 
Gr. Davenport Auxiliary." Thus his 
name is perpetuated and associated with 
the kindnesses shown to disabled or 
needy veterans and their families. Very 
many times it has been my privilege to 
speak for the soldiers of both the Civil 
and the Spanish-American Wars, on 
private and on public occasions. It has 
been my sad duty to attend the funerals 
of very many of them. 

In 1896 I connected myself with the 
Connecticut Society of the Founders and 
Patriots of America. In order to become 
a member of this order one must trace 

159 



Experiences and Observations 

his family line in either his father's or 
his mother's name back to a point in the 
settlement of the country not later than 
1657, and show that in the Eevolution 
his ancestry "adhered to the cause of the 
colonies." It was my honor to join both 
as a Davenport and a Gaylord. 

The object of the society is to conserve 
all that was best in the thought of our 
predecessors, and to commemorate in 
various ways their worthy achievements, 
"to cultivate patriotism in the associates 
and their descendants." Our Connecti- 
cut society numbers about one hundred 
and fifty men whom it is a joy to know, 
such for example, as ex-President Taft, 
Governor R. S. Woodruff, Prof. Charles 
H. Smith of Yale, Mr. G. S. Godard, 
state librarian, Prof. H. H. Tweedy of 
New Haven, and others of similar char- 
acter. In the General Court, the national 
society, I have had the pleasure and 
honor of meeting somewhat intimately 
Admiral Dewey, Gen. Fred. D. Grant, 
Hon. John S. Wise of Virginia, Hon. 
Ralph E. Prime of Yonkers, and others 
of wide reputation. Admiral Dewey was 
very gracious. I served two years as his 
deputy, while he was the Governor 
General. 

160 



Some General Observations 

It is always an advantage and affords 
a certain satisfaction to see what sort 
of men these are who have attained 
prominence. One thing regarding them 
that has impressed me is the unaffected 
simplicity of their bearing. They put on 
no airs, but are exceedingly democratic 
in their attitude. The General Court, at 
a meeting held in New York, Feb. 21, 
1917, resolved unanimously that its 
"members desire to express to the Presi- 
dent of the United States their earnest 
desire to give to him and to the govern- 
ment of this country the most patriotic 
and loyal support.'' It spoke also in 
favor of "preparedness," and recom- 
mended that "a plan for compulsory 
universal military service be put in 
operation at the earliest possible date." 
Copies of the resolutions were sent to 
President Wilson and to the presiding 
officers of the Senate and House of 
Representatives. 

As secretary of my college class for 
over thirty years, and at one time one 
of the Alumni Visitors, I have kept in 
somewhat close touch with the old col- 
lege among the hills to which I owe so 
much. One of the surprising things 
about the early settlers of New England 
161 



Experiences and Observations 

was their thought for the higher learn- 
ing, establishing Harvard College only 
sixteen years after the landing of the 
Pilgrims, Yale in 1700, Williams in 1793 
and others between those latter dates. I 
have always felt that we who inherit the 
benefit of their self-denying labors in this 
connection ought to be in thorough sym- 
pathy with all legitimate endeavor for 
the extension of enlightenment and the 
intellectual culture and uplifting of our 
race. 

In the multitude of matters that have 
filled two busy pastorates and made great 
demands upon time and ability, so much 
"attendance to reading' J and study as 
was desirable has scarcely been given. 
And yet I have endeavored almost al- 
ways to have on hand some book of sub- 
stantial value, and in this way have kept 
up fairly well with the natural science, 
theology and politics of the day, not 
ignoring the more noteworthy fiction and 
keeping an open ear for the poetry of 
the past and the present. Sermon- 
writing has always been a joy, although 
for many years the discourse was often 
of necessity redolent of "midnight oil" 
(in modern language gas or electricity). 
Not for a quarter of a century have I 

162 



Some General Observations 

preached an old sermon, at least in our 
own pulpit, without re-writing it. How- 
ever, in this age, when the people are 
surfeited with religious instruction and 
exhortation, we must feel that the sermon 
is only one means of upbuilding the King- 
dom of God, and it may be comparatively 
an unimportant one. If it were only pos- 
sible for me to preach better discourses 
I might not make that remark! 

I should like to say that during all the 
years of hard work as a pastor, my minis- 
terial brethren have been to me a source 
of strength and encouragement. In the 
freedom of our mutual confidence, there 
has come to me at least inspiration to 
diligence and faithfulness. In my per- 
plexity they have often, perhaps uncon- 
sciously, guided me and in my sorrow 
have comforted me. Each of the brethren 
with whom I have been associated has 
taught me something of value, and I feel 
myself under obligations to them all. 
While in Bridgeport there was one man, 
a brother pastor, to whom I became in- 
debted for much kindly suggestion and 
instruction. I refer to the Eev. Dr. 
Charles Eay Palmer, son of the more 
famous Dr. Eay Palmer. The younger 
man was pastor of the First Church, 

163 



Experiences and Observations 

Bridgeport, a very learned and able man. 
But his style as a preacher was so ab- 
stract and metaphysical that he appealed 
to few outside of the ranks of the 
highly educated. As a man, however, 
he was sympathetic and friendly, wise in 
counsel, doing all that he might for his 
people and for his ministerial brethren. 
We looked up to him as a competent guide 
in all matters ecclesiastical and educa- 
tional. At my installation in Waterbury, 
he gave the Charge to the Pastor. "He 
charged him," says the report in the 
American, "to apply himself to severe 
intellectual labor, to personally adopt and 
pursue the highest ideal of Christian liv- 
ing and to store up a constant supply of 
power for his work." Evidently he set 
up a standard so high as not easily to be 
maintained. He died in New Haven in 
1915. 

When I came to Waterbury I found in 
the pastor of the First Church of this city, 
Dr. Joseph Anderson, a man somewhat 
similar to Dr. Palmer and yet of a quite 
different personality. I had known Dr. 
Anderson for many years, having first 
seen him December 6, 1859, when he came 
to my native town of Wilton from Stam- 
ford to participate in an installation 

164 



Some General Observations 

service. After that I frequently met him 
in our state denominational meetings and 
was associated with him in various mat- 
ters. In 1877 he came to Bridgeport and 
asked if I would not like to purchase a lot 
and build a cottage at Woodmont where 
he had just established his summer home, 
and desired, as he said, to gather about 
him a number of congenial friends who 
might aid each other in making their vaca- 
tions more agreeable and helpful. The 
invitation was complimentary, but I did 
not feel especially attracted to the locality, 
and so declined to locate beside him. 
Probably this was a mistake, as prop- 
erty in that region has greatly appreci- 
ated in value, and I should have profited 
by the fellowship. The greeting that he 
gave me when I came to Waterbury was 
very cordial and for twenty-four years we 
toiled side by side, the best of friends, 
although by no means in agreement upon 
various points. At the installation he 
gave me "The Eight Hand of Fellow- 
ship, 9 9 saying among other things : ' ' From 
time to time, in the gatherings of our 
tribe, I have had opportunity to meet you 
and say 'What cheer?' So that you are 
not a stranger, but a well-known and well- 
beloved brother. It is with special 

165 



Experiences and Observations 

pleasure, therefore, that I give you wel- 
come to-day. Welcome to our ministerial 
gatherings and to our humble homes, to 
the fellowship of our joys and sorrows, 
of our doubts and hopes, of our disap- 
pointments and rewards. Rewards? Ah, 
yes. And the word lifts us from the 
anxious present into the fruitful future, 
from the struggle of earth to the glory of 
heaven. ' ' 

Thus began my pastorate at the side of 
him who welcomed me. We planned and 
toiled together, and our churches came in- 
creasingly into sympathy and cooperation 
with each other. He was helpful to me 
in many ways, although he failed to sym- 
pathize with me in some of my endeavors 
for the uplift of the fallen and the falling. 
He spoke very feelingly at the funerals of 
my aged mother and my soldier boy and 
it was mine to attend the funeral of his 
father, his son, his daughter and his wife. 
And at last it was my mournful privilege 
to participate in his own obsequies. His 
going left a sad vacancy in my life. He 
and Rev. W. H. Phipps and Rev. J. L. R. 
Wyckoff with myself were all that re- 
mained of the pastors in this vicinity in 
1881. And now but three of us are left 
to tell the tale. Physical weakness seemed 

166 



Some General Observations 

to bring depression and melancholy to Dr. 
Anderson during the last months of his 
life, but I cannot doubt that the laying 
aside of the flesh was for him the dawn 
of a cloudless morning, in which his keen 
and inquiring mind found light and lib- 
erty, the solution of some of his problems, 
and the satisfaction of his noble spirit. 
We cannot possibly believe that a soul so 
strong and aspiring perished when his 
body fell asleep. 

During twelve years of my Waterbury 
pastorate I was without an assistant, ex- 
cept for the brief period when Deacon 
Highmore helped after a fashion. But 
the work became so large that one man 
was unequal to its demands. And so in 
1890, we secured the services of Mr. Frank 
C. Baker, who came to us directly from 
the Yale Divinity School. He was the son 
of a home missionary, a graduate of 
Oberlin College, a man of good parts and 
seemingly devoted to his work. He took 
good care of the church during the pas- 
tor's absence in 1891. At our fortieth 
anniversary he read a fine paper upon 
"Waterbury in 1852.' ' But after a while 
an attack of typhoid fever so weakened 
and disabled him that in the fall of 1892 
he resigned. Going to New York, he en- 

167 



Experiences and Observations 

gaged in life insurance work, but after- 
ward studied law and is practising that 
profession in New York at the present 
time. 

In 1893 the Eev. Frederic M. Hollister 
came to us from Wapping, where he had 
been preaching while a student at the 
Hartford Seminary. He was so active a 
worker that the pastor named him the 
"Holy-Stir," making a dreadful pun 
upon his name. As superintendent of 
the Sunday School, leader of the Boys' 
Brigade, and the Helping Hand, he was 
admirable. His musical ability added a 
good deal to his usefulness in prayer 
meeting and elsewhere. He was the solo- 
ist of the Murphy campaign and there 
distinguished himself. In 1898 he re- 
ceived a call to the Second Church in 
Danbury which he thought best to accept. 
Since then he has had several pastorates 
and is now at the head of the church in 
Wilton in which the writer was brought 
up, and with his family is there exceed- 
ingly helpful and greatly beloved. 

In 1900 the Eev. Louis H. Holden be- 
came our assistant. He was a graduate 
of Yale and of Union Seminary and had 
had one year's experience as assistant 
pastor in a Presbyterian church in 

168 



Some General Observations 

Oneida, New York. He was a scholarly- 
man of no little ability and a good 
preacher. During his stay in Waterbury 
he studied at Yale as a post-graduate, 
taking the degree of Doctor of Philos- 
ophy. His graduating thesis was upon 
the closing chapter of the Fourth Gospel 
and was a valuable study of that anony- 
mous production. His fondness for 
music was very pronounced and the or- 
chestra that he organized in the Sunday 
School proved itself of great assistance 
to that branch of the church work. He 
was a man of social attractiveness and 
was much sought as such. In the spring 
of 1904 he left us to assume the pastor- 
ate of the Eeformed Church in Utica, 
N. Y., where, successful and beloved, he 
still labors. 

On the first of October, 1904, the Eev. 
Herbert DeWitt Williams came to us as 
junior pastor. He had been for four 
years pastor of the church in South 
Britain, and before that for four years 
pastor of a church in Hartford. He was 
a man of well developed mind and char- 
acter, and took hold of the work with 
great energy and ability. In Sunday 
School, the pulpit, the prayer meeting 
and the parish, he was admirable. 
169 



Experiences and Observations 

Everybody loved him and his services 
were sought for various occasions in the 
community and the state. As a singer 
of fine quality he was of great help in 
all our social services, while his remarks 
and prayers were always acceptable. 
The Sunday School thrived greatly under 
his management. He was a workman as 
indefatigable as he was efficient. But 
January 18, 1910, he submitted to a sur- 
gical operation which was not thought 
severe or dangerous, and fell asleep to 
wake no more on earth. The Chronicle 
of that year said, "Not for him is the 
sadness. His work had been faithfully 
performed and he was early called to 
higher service. But for those who loved 
him (and who that knew him did not?) 
his departure has left sorrow deep and 
bitter. Toward his bereaved family the 
hearts of our people and of all the city 
have turned with truest and most tender 
sympathy. For the first time in its his- 
tory the Church loses a pastor while in 
active service. His sudden removal has 
moved it as scarcely any previous event 
has ever done. How we wonder if he 
knows how we mourn for him, and if he is 
still interested in the progress of the 
Sunday School and the Church.' ' Two 

170 



Some General Observations 

days before his death he had preached 
to us from Hebrews viiirl, "Now of 
the things which we have spoken, this is 
the sum: we have such a High Priest, 
who is set on the right hand of the 
throne of the Majesty in the heavens.' ' 
No text could have been more appropri- 
ate for his last. The sum of all that he 
had said to us during the five years of 
his service had been — Christ! 

April 1, 1910, the Rev. Robert E. 
Brown, pastor-elect of the church, came 
as associate pastor, and October 15, his 
able and beloved assistant, the Rev. W. 
Moreton Owen, began his work. But, as 
Kipling says, "That is another story." 

Various organizations have claimed 
something of my time and thought, al- 
though I may not have been of great value 
to them. In 1897 I was moderator of the 
General Association of Connecticut, the 
oldest ecclesiastical body in the state. 
Three times I was delegate to the Na- 
tional Congregational Council ; namely, 
at New Haven, at St. Louis and at Min- 
neapolis. For fourteen years I served 
as a corporate member of the American 
Board, and for many years have been 
one of its honorary members. For a 
dozen or more years I have been state 

171 



Experiences and Observations 

secretary of our Congregational Church 
Building Society. I am a member of the 
Civil Service Reform Association of Con- 
necticut, the American Hygiene Associa- 
tion, the Mattatuck Historical Society, 
the Connecticut Historical Society and 
the American Historical Society, the Na- 
tional Geographic Society, the Connecti- 
cut Society of Founders and Patriots, of 
which I was governor and have been for 
many years chaplain, the General Court 
of Founders and Patriots, in which I 
have been Chaplain General and Deputy 
Governor General, the Waterbury Cham- 
ber of Commerce, the International 
Longfellow Society, the National Insti- 
tute of Efficiency; also a life member of 
the American Bible Society, the Sea- 
man's Friend Society, and the American 
Sunday School Union. Since 1864 I have 
been a member of the Phi Beta Kappa 
Society. I am also a member of the 
Naugatuck Valley Association of Minis- 
ters and Churches, and of the Waterbury 
Naturalist Club. 

I have written this long catalogue prin- 
cipally for the sake of finding out just 
what I am connected with. Some of 
these memberships amount to very little, 
while others of them mean very much to 

172 



Some General Observations 

me. I consider it a fine thing to be asso- 
ciated with wise and earnest people in 
the good work to which they have given 
themselves. I only wish that I could be 
of fuller service to those who in any way 
are trying to help humanity. When in 
college I was invited to unite with cer- 
tain secret societies, but preferred my 
freedom. Since then I have been solic- 
ited to join the Masons and the Odd 
Fellows, but have not had time or 
strength for the demands that they 
might make upon me. Of the ministry 
I said "This one thing I do." 

I am free to say that to me my life 
has been a great surprise. When I be- 
gan to look toward the work of the min- 
istry, my ideal parish was that of some 
country town, from whose public square 
rose the snowy church spire and within 
whose narrow bounds life's problems 
might be dealt with at close range. I 
had no aspirations nor felt myself fitted 
for anything broader. I dreamed of be- 
ing an accepted visitor in old country 
homes such as those with which I was 
familiar in my boyhood, by whose fire- 
sides sound sense and unfeigned devo- 
tion to God were so often found. In the 
country church one could easily number 
173 



Experiences and Observations 

his flock and call each of them by name 
and keep his hand upon them all. I pic- 
tured myself standing in the country 
pulpit before which a company of farm- 
ers struggled to keep awake after their 
week in the open air, and wondered if I 
could present the truth with so much 
dramatic force as to keep all minds 
and eyes wide open. I doubted if I 
could ever be as startling or as solemn 
in my message as were some of the min- 
isters of my childhood, beneath whose 
dire utterances no man, certainly no 
youth, could possibly sleep. In my 
youth I had read two books upon life in 
the ministry, one, "The Sunny Side," by 
Mrs. Phelps, a daughter of Moses Stuart, 
a native of Wilton; and the other, "The 
Shady Side," by Mrs. Stephen Hubbell, 
whose husband was also a native of 
Wilton. Both of these more or less 
charming books presented the country 
parsonage and its occupants, with their 
difficulties and joys, and I found them of 
absorbing interest. A life that should 
find the satisfactions and avoid some of 
the troubles there pictured was what I 
coveted for myself and dreamed of ex- 
periencing. I thought of myself as some- 

174 



Some General Observations 

what resembling Goldsmith 's " village 
preacher,' 9 in his famous poem: 

"A man he was to all the country dear, 

And passing rich with forty pounds a year: 

Remote from towns he ran his godly race, 

Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change, his place." 

Some such life as his was my highest 
ambition to attain. But I woke from my 
dream to. find myself the pastor of a city 
church, where conditions are more exact- 
ing and where one 's parish has no definite 
limits. In such a parish every day of my 
ministerial life has been spent. As in a 
dissolving view the country spire melted 
into the city tower. How this came about 
I do not know, except through the order- 
ing of Him whose thoughts are not as our 
thoughts. A great and unanticipated op- 
portunity was thrust upon me, a shrinking 
rustic, as I must believe, in the Providence 
of God. My only regret is that I have not 
made more of it, and my gratitude is 
awakened by the humble belief that my 
weakness and errors have so been over- 
ruled that some little, as I trust, has been 
accomplished in the upbuilding of the 
magnificent Kingdom of our God. To 
Him is all the glory forever. 

I have seen the ministry almost exelu- 



Experiences and Observations 

sively upon its l ' sunny side. ' ' Its studies 
and its labors have been full of satisfac- 
tion, and my relations with the members 
of my churches and of other churches 
have, almost without exception, been ex- 
ceedingly agreeable. I have seen more of 
kindness and sympathy and generosity 
than I was aware dwelt in human hearts. 
Were I to live my life over again posses- 
sing the knowledge that is now mine, noth- 
ing would tempt me to a different field of 
labor than that which the ministry pre- 
sents. I congratulate the younger minis- 
terial brethren upon that which they have 
in store, and regard their privilege with a 
feeling akin to envy. And I call upon our 
earnest youth who have not yet decided 
upon the course that they will pursue, to 
consider carefully the claims upon their 
attention of the ministry of Christ. 

Of course it involves its trials, for what 
position in life does not? But it offers 
satisfactions which seem to me to far out- 
weigh them. We gaze with profound ad- 
miration upon the marbles that the hand 
of genius has carved for the delight of the 
ages, and regard Phidias and Michelan- 
gelo and their fellow craftsmen with 
reverence and with a great longing in our 
hearts to perform, as did they, some im- 

176 



Some General Observations 

mortal work. A similar feeling is ours as 
we study the magnificent paintings of 
Baphael and Murillo and the entire group 
of artists whose splendid productions will 
charm humanity so long as humanity 
exists. We long to accomplish something 
that will outlast our fleeting years. But 
the sculptor and the painter, however won- 
derful their ability and the results of their 
toil, have been working upon perishable 
material, while one who seeks to mould 
humanity into nobler form works upon 
that which is indestructible. The soul of 
man lies back of all works of art, itself of 
vastly greater worth than anything that 
it can conceive of or produce. The statue 
and the painting are but crude representa- 
tions of its thought and emotion. It is 
itself a miniature image of the eternal 
God. No work can possibly be greater 
than that of so enlightening the human 
intellect, inspiring right emotion and af- 
fection and influencing the will that man 
shall attain the high estate for which he 
was designed. Here is a work that in- 
volves sympathy with the divine and re- 
quires the utmost wisdom and skill. Here 
is labor whose consequences are enduring 
so far as the individual is concerned, and 
which sets in motion forces whose activity 

177 



Experiences and Observations 

may reach on to the end of time and be- 
yond it. 

In our day the ministry is regarded as 
standing in a broad relation to society, as 
in close alliance and cooperation with all 
that tends to purify its spirit and broaden 
its aims and improve its conditions. Its 
field is the world, not only in its extent but 
in its content. We know something of the 
vast influence that the Church and its min- 
isters have exerted upon nations and gov- 
ernments in the ages past, an influence 
unfortunately not always uplifting or in 
any way helpful. Much of the history of 
the Middle Ages in this connection is in 
the highest degree saddening and distress- 
ing. But, as a rule, in our time the Chris- 
tian Church and its representatives stand 
for all that is best and highest in human 
thought and life. Education, morality, 
patriotism, philanthropy, all look to them 
for leadership and inspiration. 

Sometimes the task of the local minister 
does seem unimportant, but in the broader 
view he must see that in its connections it 
is work of the very highest order. And that 
is the vision which he should ever seek to 
gain. It has been a great help to me to 
read the biographies of clergymen who 
have been distinguished in their field of 

178 



Some General Observations 

effort, to learn their view of the profes- 
sion, to note the elements of their success. 
These " lives of great men all remind us" 
of the immense value in the ministry, as 
in fact everywhere else, of personality, 
broad, cultured, consecrated, seeing in the 
Man of Galilee the ideal for every man, 
and appreciating the incomparable beauty 
of the truth as he has set it forth for the 
guidance of the individual, the community, 
the nation and the race. To note the pos- 
sible bearing of the ministry upon all that 
makes our life free and happy and helpful 
is to be greatly impressed with the attrac- 
tion it presents to the aspiring Christian 
youth who is seeking to determine in what 
position he can make the most of his 
powers. "Who is sufficient for these 
things?" is the question forced from those 
who really comprehend the importance of 
the task and the qualifications for its suc- 
cessful performance. 

At the conclusion of my twenty-fifth 
year in Waterbury, my anniversary ser- 
mon was from Psalms xxxi:21, "Blessed 
be the Lord, for He hath showed me 
His marvelous lovingkindness in a 
strong city." It seemed to me that no 
other verse in the entire Bible contained 
suggestions more appropriate for that 

179 



Experiences and Observations 

occasion. As to the "lovingkindness" 
there could be no question, and the city 
in which I had witnessed it could scarcely 
have been more fittingly characterized. It 
is indeed ' l a strong city, ' ' and I have seen 
its strength increased in an amazing 
manner. 

Although I had lived in Connecticut all 
my life, I had known very little of Water- 
bury until shortly before becoming one of 
its citizens. In 1877, when returning with 
Deacon Winton of Bridgeport from a 
trip to the White Mountains, we drove 
through the city and for a little looked 
about its center. This was the first 
glimpse of the place that for so many 
years was to be my home. There came to 
me no intimation that some of the most im- 
portant experiences of my life were there 
to be met. At that time Center Square 
was surrounded with a fence, suggesting 
the idea either that there was danger of 
its getting away or of being invaded by 
undesirable visitors. It seemed small, but 
fairly well kept and attractive. Four 
years later, when the boy of our house, 
accustomed to the wider expanses of 
Bridgeport's public grounds, saw it, he 
said, "There's papa's 'park.' It isn't so 
big as our dooryard." The town did not 

180 



Some General Observations 

strike Deacon Winton and myself as so 
very inviting, and we drove on to Nauga- 
tuck for dinner. Waterbury at that time 
had about 16,000 inhabitants and to the 
stranger presented no special indications 
of prosperity. 

In 1880 my next visit to Waterbury oc- 
curred, on the occasion of the meeting 
there of the General Conference of Con- 
necticut. Two nights were spent on 
Leavenworth St., in a building which I 
was told had once been the rectory of St. 
John's parish. The meetings were mostly 
held with the Second Church, welcomed 
there by Dr. Beckwith. The auditorium 
seemed bare and homely and for some 
reason, perhaps because of the echo 
that haunted it, a difficult place in 
which to hear the discussions. In the 
evening the sessions were with the First 
Church, whose sanctuary had been fin- 
ished about five years before. The place 
seemed bright and attractive, and as Dr. 
Anderson addressed us I thought what a 
delightful thing it must be to be a pastor 
with such a house of worship. When 
I left Waterbury at the close of the 
Conference the idea did not occur to 
me that I should ever see the place again. 
Yet in less than a year I was installed as 

181 



Experiences and Observations 

pastor in the old Second Church. So sud- 
denly is the scenery of one's life some- 
times changed. 

When I came to Waterbury to reside its 
population had climbed to 21,000 and was 
still rising. At that time its inhabitants 
were mostly located in the valley. I was 
told that land here was exceedingly costly 
because there was so little of it on the 
level. But soon the surrounding hills be- 
gan to be occupied, and the city extended 
in every direction, beautiful dwellings 
springing up in what had been but woods 
and cow pastures. And now, in 1917, we 
find ourselves citizens of a great city of 
at least 100,000 people. Its growth has 
been marvelous. Why an inland town 
should so develop has been the wonder of 
many. No' doubt the secret lies in the fact 
that from the first it has been "strong" 
in various respects ; strong in the men who 
laid the foundation of its industries, and 
strong in those who have built thereon ; an 
unusual strength of character having 
shown itself in those who have been 
leaders among us, not only in material 
matters but in education, religion, gov- 
ernment, all that is involved in choice 
civilization. 

Cities, like personalities and churches, 
182 



Some General Observations 

possess an individuality which reveals it- 
self to one who enters into their life. Cer- 
tain peculiarities pertain to each which 
may be difficult to specify, and yet which 
are clearly perceived. Our city differs 
radically from Hartford, New Haven, 
Norwich or Bridgeport. Possessing, of 
course, many things in common with them, 
its spirit, its way of doing things, perhaps 
we may say its character, is felt to be 
unique. The mention of any one of these 
cities suggests, to those who know them, 
a certain definite atmosphere and attitude 
by which it is differentiated from any of 
the others. 

If I were asked to mention in a single 
word what I regard as perhaps the most 
striking characteristic of Waterbury, I in- 
cline to think that I should answer, "En- 
terprise." This appears not only in the 
management of its industries but in every 
department of its life. Evidently its 
founders, those who laid the foundation of 
its great activities, were men of enter- 
prise. The junction here of two small 
streams, the Mad river with the Nauga- 
tuck, suggested to them possibilities which 
only the enterprising would have strug- 
gled to realize. "With a broad view of 
present availability and of future accom- 

183 



Experiences and Observations 

plishment they devoted all their wisdom 
and strength to the task they had set be- 
fore them. Other towns of the common- 
wealth and of the Naugatuck valley 
apparently possessed advantages not here 
to be found, but most of them have fallen 
far short of Waterbury in their develop- 
ment. 

Is not the difference largely to be ac- 
counted for by the specially substantial 
and vigorous quality of those who pre- 
sided over Waterbury 's earlier years? 
They were enterprising in a marked de- 
gree as the story of those days clearly 
shows. The peculiar character that the 
town with its activities manifested at- 
tracted men of like spirit and the succes- 
sion has continued. The annals of our city 
are peculiarly rich in their record of men 
and women of intellectual power, of excel- 
lent judgment, of noble ideals, of willing- 
ness to sacrifice and toil for the best things 
in municipal life, with an eager eye for 
the welfare of the commonwealth and the 
true grandeur of the republic. I have a 
theory that the individuality of Water- 
bury, as we recognize it today, is the sum 
total of the individualities that have built 
themselves into it. It presents a sort of 
composite picture of those who have con- 

184 



Some General Observations 

tributed to it of their intelligence and 
energy and initiative, of their reverence 
and philanthropy and generous devotion 
to noble ends. One who has known the 
city for many ^years could present a bril- 
liant list of those who have thus helped to 
make it what it is. It would include lead- 
ing manufacturers, enterprising mer- 
chants, wise architects and builders, 
broad-minded and devoted teachers, keen 
and accomplished lawyers, philanthropic 
and skilful physicians, conscientious 
financiers, self-sacrificing and eloquent 
clergymen, bright and thoroughly cultured 
editors, men and women in every rank of 
society with clear heads and busy hands, 
faithful to their obligations, doing well 
the work assigned them even unto the end. 
They have poured their thought, their 
emotion, their talent, their enterprise, 
their faith in the right, their devotion to 
worthy ends, in a word, their life, into the 
city's life, and the city has been made for- 
ever the stronger and the richer thereby. 
Every citizen has made some contribution 
to the quality of our city as it stands be- 
fore the world today. Every one of us 
who has had the privilege of sharing its 
life may say with the psalmist, "Blessed 
be the Lord for He hath showed me His 

185 



Experiences and Observations 

marvelous loving-kindness in a strong 
city." 

It is a great joy to me to know that the 
two churches to which I gave so much 
thought and care and toil are so thriving 
under the splendid management of such 
men as Rev. Gerald H. Beard, Ph.D., and 
Rev. Robert E. Brown. No one can be 
more eager than I am to learn that both 
churches are increasing in numbers and in 
all those things which tend to make a 
church strong and influential, serving 
their generation with wisdom and fidelity. 
The little that I was able to do in and for 
them may have had some part in their 
development. 



186 



VI 
DAYS AT CLIFTON SPRINGS 

When I became Pastor Emeritus of 
the Waterbury Church, I asked the Com- 
mittee what my duties as such would be. 
"Nothing," was the reply, "except to 
have as good a time as you can for the 
rest of your life." "Suppose," I asked, 
"that I should wish to do pastoral work 
somewhere else, would it be all right?" 
"Oh, yes," they said, "either for shorter 
or longer time, as you please." And so 
when, a few weeks later, I was invited to 
act as chaplain of the Clifton Springs 
Sanitarium in Western New York for 
three months, in the absence of the per- 
manent chaplain, I gladly accepted the 
invitation, and entered upon the work the 
first week in January, 1912. The experi- 
ence was so pleasant that twice afterward, 
in the two succeeding years, I accepted a 
similar invitation. The sanitarium is a 
somewhat remarkable institution, founded 
in 1850 by Dr. Henry Foster, who had es- 
pecially in mind the establishment of a 
place in which, without too great expense, 

187 



Experiences and Observations 

ministers, missionaries and teachers and 
their families might receive adequate med- 
ical treatment. With this for its central 
idea the institution has grown into large 
proportions, receiving to its helpful care 
many of the best people of this country 
and of Canada, with a sprinkling of 
patients from other lands. 

Very much is made of the religious ele- 
ment, since Dr. Foster believed that if one 
is spiritually in the right attitude, he is 
far more likely to be helped physically. 
Therefore the beautiful chapel, with its 
twelve services every week, is a very im- 
portant feature of the place. But faith 
and works are here conjoined, a staff of 
a dozen physicians bringing to the relief 
of sufferers the latest and best ideas in 
medical science. All manner of baths are 
employed, electricity in its various guises 
is administered, massage is made much of, 
while the X-ray and all the modern appli- 
ances for the detection and cure of disease 
are freety used. The table is that of a 
first-class hotel. The social and religious 
atmosphere of the place is charming. 
Many return again and again to what they 
have named, "D. 0. C," otherwise 
1 ' Dear Old Clifton.'' 

About two hundred were there each 
188 



Days at Clifton Springs 

winter of my chaplaincy. It was my duty 
to say grace at each meal in the large din- 
ing room, conduct prayers in the chapel 
every morning, lead two prayer meetings 
during the week and preach twice on Sun- 
day. Frequently, too, I was invited to 
visit some of the sick ones in the institu- 
tion, and perhaps to administer the com- 
munion. It was a kind of concentrated 
parish, and I greatly enjoyed the work. 
After the chaplain, who had served faith- 
fully and successfully for some seventeen 
years, resigned, the chairman of the board 
of directors spoke to me about taking the 
place permanently. Had I been twenty 
years younger, scarcely anything would 
have suited me better. As it was, I felt 
unequal to the task. From the place I 
brought memories that I shall fondly 
cherish and there formed acquaintances 
that ripened into enduring friendships. 
Perhaps I may speak of a few of those 
who especially impressed me. 

Eev. S. H. Adams, D.D., the chaplain of 
whom I have already spoken, is a man of 
fine culture and beautiful spirit, winning 
to himself those to whom he ministers. 
To me he is a brother well-beloved. 

Dr. James Gregory Mumford, superin- 
tendent during a part of my stay at Clif- 

189 



Experiences and Observations 

ton, was a remarkable man somewhat akin 
in ability and spirit to Dr. Oliver Wendell 
Holmes. Like him he had been lecturer in 
the Harvard Medical School, and the au- 
thor of several books. He was a very 
learned and skilful physician, but had been 
obliged to resign his large practice in 
Boston on account of a heart weakness. 
He was wont to lecture on surgery to na- 
tional and international associations. To 
me he was exceedingly courteous and 
gracious and I came to esteem him very 
highly. In October, 1914, about six 
months after I bade him good-by, he sud- 
denly died, a great loss to his friends and 
to all the medical world. 

The Rev. Dr. Gordon of Winnipeg, bet- 
ter known as "Ralph Connor," came to 
Clifton and we were glad to make his ac- 
quaintance. He is a thin, tall man, not 
much inclined to converse but making him- 
self agreeable to those privileged to meet 
him. Much of his time he spent in private, 
writing upon some book that he had com- 
menced. He presented me with one of his 
works, "The Man from Glengarry," with 
his autograph, which I greatly prize. 

James A. McDonald, LL.D., of Toronto, 
editor of the Globe, was at Clifton for 
several weeks in the winters of 1913 and 

190 



Days at Clifton Springs 

1914. He is built upon large proportions, 
physically and mentally, and is a speaker 
of rare impressiveness. A statesman of 
the Liberal party, in Canada his influence 
is great. He is not now a member of Par- 
liament, but when some important question 
arose at Ottawa they telegraphed him to 
come and give his advice, and so he left 
us suddenly. He was originally a Pres- 
byterian minister, and twice when I was 
not well at Clifton he preached for me. 
" Don't let your pulpit trouble you," he 
said, "111 take care of it." The people 
didn't like to tell me so, but I rather sus- 
pected that they were sorry when I re- 
covered. He speaks frequently in the 
United States upon great political or an- 
niversary occasions. His love for our 
Republic is very evident. He thinks that 
it and Canada should stand in the closest 
fraternal relations. He represented Can- 
ada at the coronation of King George V, 
and gave us a charming account of the 
splendid occasion. 

The Rev. Elwood Worcester, D.D., 
rector of Emmanuel Church, Boston, 
made us a visit in February, 1913. I had 
the honor of a conversation with him in 
Dr. Mumford's room and also that of in- 
troducing him when, in the evening, he 

191 



Experiences and Observations 

lectured in the chapel. He is a charming 
man socially, and his address was greatly 
appreciated. He told us of the methods 
employed in the famous " Emmanuel 
Movement" for healing the sick. They 
are simply those that Dr. Foster empha- 
sized, the endeavor to get the patient right 
spiritually, leading him to the great 
Physician, and then using the means best 
esteemed in the medical world. He be- 
lieves that a great deal depends upon the 
spiritual and mental attitude. He told us 
when we go to bed and cannot sleep, to 
take off our head and lay it up on the 
shelf. One lady said that she dreamed 
that she did this, and that her head stood 
grinning at her all night and keeping her 
awake. Dr. Worcester evidently embodies 
a vast amount of "personal magnetism." 
Rev. Dr. F. E. Emrich, secretary of the 
Massachusetts Home Missionary Society, 
was for several weeks at the sanitarium. 
He drank the most deeply of the full wells 
of Scripture of any man that I ever saw. 
Every morning he read a chapter in Eng- 
lish, then the same in French, German, 
Swedish and some other languages, and 
compared them, often saying to me, "Oh, 
I found such a beautiful thing today." It 
was delightful to be with him and hear 

192 



Days at Clifton Springs 

him talk. The next year he was chaplain 
for two or three months. 

In February, 1914, there came to Clif- 
ton Prof. Bufus B. Richardson and his 
charming wife, who was a daughter of Mr. 
Henry C. Bowen of the New York Inde- 
pendent. He was a graduate of Yale in 
1869, for eleven years had had charge of 
the Archaeological School in Athens, 
Greece, and was the author of several 
valuable books. But he had overstrained 
his brain and was like a child in under- 
standing and in speech. It was very piti- 
able to see him and to hear him try to talk. 

His wife and son and daughter cared 
for him most tenderly. But he was sud- 
denly seized with pneumonia, and March 
10, 1914, died at the sanitarium. He was 
nearly 69 years old. On the next day 
I conducted a brief funeral service in 
the room where he had died. Only the 
family and myself were present, unless 
the invisible Comforter was there also. It 
was a very peculiar funeral, and as the 
three knelt around me in their bitter grief, 
I longed as almost never before for power 
to console the distressed. It was the only 
service for the dead that I had at Clifton. 

Various ministers and other profes- 
sional people of interesting character 

193 



Experiences and Observations 

were there, many of them more or less 
broken down, who elicited my sympathy 
by their condition. However, many of 
them were bright and witty and hope- 
ful, and some of them went back to 
their work. Several were from Can- 
ada, and I have wondered if they were 
caught in the awful clutches of the war. 
I was impressed as I have seldom been 
with the fact that so much personal at- 
tractiveness and worth and devotion has 
given itself to the work of the ministry. 
Our fellowship there was very sweet and 
helpful. How I should love to follow 
every one of these dear brethren in their 
life career, noting their methods and their 
successes! " Shall we meet beyond the 
river ?" 

All the physicians at Clifton were ac- 
complished and interesting. It was very 
evident that the ministry as represented 
there had no monopoly of personal win- 
someness. The doctors were kindly, sym- 
pathetic, optimistic, cheering with their 
sunny presence and inspiring many a de- 
spondent one with hope. To them all I 
owe much for the aid that consciously or 
unconsciously they rendered me. Happy 
is the invalid that falls into their wise and 
tender care! 

194 



Days at Clifton Springs 

Many others are employed at the sani- 
tarium, in one way and another serving 
the guests. At the hands of all these I 
received only kindness. One spirit seemed 
to have taken possession of all connected 
with the institution, that of consideration 
for the comfort and the needs of all. If 
the Clifton spirit could only prevail in all 
our homes, perpetual happiness would 
there abide. When this spirit is that of 
the nations, wars will cease. 

I left there April 4, 1914, wondering if 
I should ever again view the spot where I 
have known so many delightful hours. It 
has seemed to me that as we meet there 
from all over the earth, and soon find our- 
selves in sympathy and fellowship and re- 
joice in each other's companionship and in 
common pursuits, lifting together our song 
of praise and sitting at the Master's feet, 
thus it will be when God's children from 
many lands come together in the Father's 
house on high, strangers to each other and 
yet at heart friends and brethren, de- 
lighted to meet each other and to look into 
the Face divine, 

" Where the anthems of rapture unceasingly roll, 
And the smile of the Lord is the feast of the soul." 

Possibly it might be of interest if I 
were to record some of the impressions 

195 



Experiences and Observations 

received at Clifton and of the wise and 
witty words spoken. One interesting fact 
learned directly from the parties involved 
was regarding the manner in which Dr. 
Foster, the founder of the institution, ob- 
tained his wife. He was a bachelor until 
about fifty, when he thought that it might 
be well for him to have a consort. He was 
a man of great faith, constantly in prayer, 
and naturally referred the matrimonial 
matter to his great Master, asking that if 
it were the divine will that he should 
marry, some intimation might be given 
him as to the appropriate person for him 
to wed. Not long afterward he had a 
vivid dream in which he thought that a 
lady of fine appearance, dressed in a man- 
ner that he described, came to the sanita- 
rium with a patient. He was impressed 
with the idea that she was the one chosen 
for his companion. A short time after this, 
behold a lady corresponding in about 
every particular came to the sanitarium 
with her brother. She was a great-grand- 
daughter of Jonathan Edwards, and a 
woman of superior quality. When he 
made known to her his experience and the 
impression made upon his mind, she 
agreed to accept what was apparently the 
divine will, and in due time they were 

196 



Days at Clifton Springs 

married. No woman better fitted for the 
position into which she came could be 
found. For thirty years or more she 
aided him in his great work, and after his 
death continued it. She died in 1916, 
greatly respected and deeply mourned. 

Mrs. Hamlin, widow of Rev. Dr. T. L. 
Hamlin, many years pastor of the Church 
of the Covenant in Washington, was an 
honored guest in 1913. One day she said 
to me, " Women are more pious than men 
but not more religious." When I asked 
her for the distinction she said that 
" pious" has more reference to the out- 
ward expression, "religious" to the 
strong tendencies of the soul. She 
thought there was apt to be "too much 
cant" in women's prayer meetings. She 
said, "I am fond of realities; my religion 
is practical. ' ' She told us that a missionary 
away up in the arctic regions desired to 
marry but knew of no suitable lady within 
his reach. So he wrote four letters to 
women whom he knew, marking them 
numbers 1, 2, 3, 4, and sent them in a large 
envelope to the Secretary of a Missionary 
Society, asking him to send them in the 
order indicated, and wait for a reply. Un- 
fortunately, on the way, the large envel- 
ope was broken and all four letters went 
197 



Experiences and Observations 

into the mail, four proposals to four 
women, all at the same time! Two of 
them answered in the negative, and two 
not at all. What would have happened 
had all said "Yes"? Later a brother mis- 
sionary, coming to the far north with his 
bride, brought with them a friend to re- 
main with her for a year. After a little 
the bachelor minister married the friend 
and they lived happily ever after. Mrs. 
Hamlin said that in one of their prayer 
meetings, a man prayed that her husband 
might "be anointed with the Isle of Pat- 
mos." 

Mrs. R. B. Richardson was a delightful 
addition to our social circle in both the 
winters of 1913 and of 1914. She told us 
of a man in a Connecticut town who called 
upon an ancient maiden and asked her to 
marry him. She, probably agreeable, but 
somewhat coy, said with drooping head, 
"I should like a little time to consider.' ' 
"Consider!" he said, "consider! you can 
consider to all eternity,' ' and took his hat 
and left. So far as known she is still con- 
sidering, possibly in maiden regret over 
her delay. The grief of Mrs. Richardson 
over the death of her husband was shared 
by all her friends at the sanitarium. She 
declared that she could never add any- 

198 



Days at Clifton Springs 

thing more to the cheerfulness of our 
group. 

The Hon. Mr. Boutell, sometime our am- 
bassador to Switzerland, visited the sani- 
tarium, where his venerable mother and 
his sister remained for three or four years. 
He told us of a visit he had with the 
Kaiser, William II. The German mon- 
arch invited the representatives of the 
other countries, on a certain occasion, to 
meet him for a banquet and a social hour. 
After the elegant feast was disposed of, 
the Kaiser withdrew into a little room by 
himself where he received his visitors, one 
by one, and conversed with them freely. 
Mr. Boutell said that the idea that he was 
talking with the German Emperor was a 
/little embarrassing to him at first, but 
that the Kaiser made himself so pleasant 
and agreeable that he soon felt very much 
at home with him. He asked him about 
various things in America and expressed 
himself as greatly interested in our re- 
public. Evidently the ambassador was 
very favorably impressed with his per^ 
sonality. Mr. Boutell himself is a short, 
squarely-built man and very dignified. 

Rev. C. N. Ransom, a missionary from 
among the Zulus, made himself very 
agreeable and helpful during the winter 

199 



Experiences and Observations 

of 1913. He said that one night he was 
on the Rigi, alone as he supposed, but at 
length he met a man and of course ad- 
dressed him. First he tried to use the 
French language but failed to get on very 
well. Then they tried German with a 
similar result. Finally the man said, "Do 
you speak English ?" "Why, certainly,' ' 
said Mr. Eansom, "I am an American.' ' 
"And I am an Englishman," replied the 
other. On inquiring his name he found it 
was "Smith." Mr. Ransom told us of a 
young Japanese, who had become a Chris- 
tian. When dying, he shouted, as his last 
word, "Hurray." He was not familiar 
with the conventional terms. 

A Mrs. Graybill, formerly a missionary, 
told me that awhile ago she attended a 
missionary convention at Clifton where 
she met various workers from missionary 
fields. Afterward she received a letter 
from one of these, a gentleman regarding 
whose identity she was not sure, since she 
had met so many. But at length she con- 
cluded that he was a certain bald-headed 
man with a fringe of bright red hair about 
his neck. A correspondence was contin- 
ued between them and in due time he 
asked her to marry him and she consented. 
When he came to marry her, she found 

200 



Days at Clifton Springs 

that he was not at all the man whom she 
had had in mind! She had become well 
acquainted with him intellectually and 
spiritually, but had no idea of his physical 
appearance ! The fact seemed to have no 
deleterious effect upon their wedded hap- 
piness. 

Dr. Mumf ord gave me a little verse that 
was written upon the wall of his room by 
Mr. Bliss Carman, and by him forgotten. 
It was as follows : 

" Have little care that life is short, 
And less that art is long, 
Success lies in the silences, 
Though Fame be in the song." 

Rev. John N. Blodgett, a clergyman of 
the Church of England, from Canada, told 
us of a young man whom his father found 
in his room on his wedding-day, crying 
bitterly. "Why, my son," said the father, 
"crying on your wedding-day! There 
were no tears on mine." "Well," said 
the son, "it was different with you: you 
married mother and I have to marry a 
stranger. Boo-hoo." He said that two 
men once went out to solicit money to give 
their pastor a vacation. "Why," said 
one of the parishioners, "does our minis- 
ter need a vacation?" "No," was the 
reply, "but we do." 

201 



Experiences and Observations 

Since completing my work at Clifton I 
have remained quietly at home. The lay- 
ing aside of the burden of pastoral 
responsibility, borne for about half a cen- 
tury, has been a great relief. Leisure for 
reading and writing and communion with 
friends has been vastly enjoyed. The 
" vacant chair " in my home is still in evi- 
dence, but draped now in thought not so 
much with badges of woe as with emblems 
of hope. Life is by no means without its 
charm. To be dissatisfied with it would be 
gross ingratitude. I notice from my 
record that since leaving Clifton I have 
preached eighty-six times in about thirty 
different places, over fifty times in con- 
nection with our own church : have united 
sixty-three couples in the holy bonds of 
matrimony, endeavoring to make the knot 
proof against the solicitations of the 
divorce court, and have attended seventy- 
three funerals. So that I have not been 
wholly out of touch with ministerial work. 
Yet the lack of physical vigor has pre- 
vented my doing much more for which 
opportunity was afforded. Often the flesh 
is weak when the spirit is willing. Minis- 
terially speaking, the last year was the 
least productive since my ordination. 

In January, 1917, I published a little 
202 



Bays at Clifton Springs 

poem, entitled, "Is Lincoln Dead?" 
copies of which were distributed as a kind 
of keepsake among my friends. Many- 
kindly acknowledgments were received and 
greatly prized. One of these is so gratify- 
ing that I venture to reproduce it. Gath- 
ering up all the self-assurance that I could 
find lying about, I sent a copy of the poem 
to Mr. Lincoln's son, the Hon. Robert 
Todd Lincoln of Chicago. From Wash- 
ington he replied as follows : 

Febbuaky 12, 1917. 
My Deab Sib : 

I appreciate very much your kindness 
in sending me the copy of your poem, "Is 
Lincoln Dead?" It moves me very much 
to receive such a testimonial of the feel- 
ing inspired by the memory of my father 
and I am very grateful to you for it. 
You express more eloquently than I can 
attempt to do, the emotions which are 
caused in me by the recurrence every year, 
and I think this year more than ever be- 
fore, of the exhibition of the regard and 
respect in which his memory is held. 
Believe me, 

Very sincerely yours, 

Eobebt T. Lincoln. 
The Rev. John Gaylord Davenport, D.D. 

203 



Experiences and Observations 

These years of comparative' rest and 
freedom from care have furnished oppor- 
tunity for reflection upon the past and the 
present. Many things have greatly im- 
pressed me as I have looked backward. 
The review of my life has made it very 
clear that a Thought above my own, a 
Hand stronger than mine, has been lead- 
ing all the way. Each experience of mine 
has been a preparation for something that 
was to follow: evidently so, as it now 
seems, although the fact may have escaped 
me at the time. Often from seemingly un- 
important occurrences great matters have 
resulted. The fatherless, country boy has 
unusual reason for gratitude for the way 
in which he has been guided. Rare privi- 
leges of working for humanity have been 
his, not always, I fear, improved as they 
should have been, but greatly prized. For 
how is the life worth living that cannot in 
some good measure help humanity to 
better and happier experiences and con- 
ditions? My one regret is that I have not 
accomplished more in that direction. I 
think I can conscientiously say that on the 
whole I have sincerely endeavored to do 
the best and the most possible. 

For the friends that the years have 
given me I am more grateful than any 

204 



Days at Clifton Springs 

words can tell. Every part of my life has 
furnished its kindred spirits, so many of 
them interesting, broad-minded, warm- 
hearted, often affectionate far beyond my 
desert. I thankfully recall them, friends 
of my boyhood, friends of college days, 
friends in the churches with which I have 
been connected, friends met here and 
there in the varied experiences that I have 
known. Without these life would have 
missed one of its chief charms. It would 
have been as dull as a summer without a 
flower or an autumn without a golden fruit 
or a vermilion leaf. They have given me 
more of enjoyment and help in many ways 
than I could possibly measure. I have 
had a theory that friends come to us 
providentially, each bringing a message 
that we need to receive, whether it be to 
warn, to instruct, to cheer, to comfort or 
to inspire. And the question has often 
arisen, as new acquaintances have been 
made and new friendships formed, as to 
just what the message might be, and what 
I was to pay for it in the way of help to 
the one who brought it. Certainly more 
charming or helpful friends no one ever 
had than have somehow gathered about 
me and thrown their benediction over my 
life. How I wish that I could have added 

205 



Experiences and Observations 

something of good to the experiences of 
them every one! 

The changes that have occurred in our 
land, and in the world, since I came into 
them, have been immense. When I was a 
boy I used to weep over the wrongs done 
to the slaves of the southland as the New 
York Tribune set them forth. For before 
" Uncle Tom's Cabin" was written, heart- 
touching tales in that connection were re- 
ported by the abolition papers. And now 
for more than half a century no slave foot 
has pressed the soil of our native land. 
When I was born there were but twenty- 
six stars upon our national banner in 
place of the forty-eight that are now shin- 
ing there in regal splendor. Martin Van 
Buren was president of the United States, 
the eighth that had occupied the august 
chair. His grandson was for a time a 
pupil of mine at Williams. When I was 
a little boy the Mexican War was rum- 
bling in the far south, and the great anxi- 
ety of us schoolboys was lest it might 
come north even to Connecticut. Then 
came the Civil War with its four years of 
horror, when the land seemed dyed with 
blood and billowing everywhere into sol- 
diers' graves. After forty years the 
Spanish- American War, short and sharp, 

206 



Days at Clifton Springs 

bringing great and lasting grief to some 
of us, made Cuba free and planted our 
glorious Stars and Stripes in sunrise 
lands and enrolled us as a " world power.' ' 

Partly as a result of these wars and 
more because of the enterprise and inven- 
tion, in a word the liberty, of our people, 
with its opportunity for self-development 
and expansion, the nation has become great 
and strong, wealthy and wise, far beyond 
the most ardent hopes of those who 
founded it. The privilege of watching this 
growth and feeling oneself part of the 
mighty Republic, reaching on to the ac- 
complishment of its high trust, has been 
appreciated and increasingly so as the 
years have progressed. And now the 
country is engaged in another conflict. 
We had hoped that we might be spared 
participation in this if otherwise our 
rights and the rights of humanity 
could be secured and preserved. Democ- 
racy contends with autocracy, and there 
can be no doubt as to which will ultimately 
prevail. Despotism is apparently making 
its last, desperate struggle for supremacy. 
We believe it doomed to utter failure. 
May God speed the right! 

During my remembrance the intellec- 
tual and religious attitude of the world has 

407 



Experiences and Observations 

seen vast change. The evolutionary the- 
ory, now almost universally adopted, has 
modified our views immeasurably. Natu- 
ral science has made unprecedented ad- 
vancement, as have mental and moral 
science, and philosophy in all its branches 
and applications. Modern criticism has 
been subjecting all things to its micro- 
scopic research, and while rejecting some 
of the traditions of the past, has estab- 
lished the true and the good upon sub- 
stantial foundations. A different view of 
humanity is now held from that long cher- 
ished by our predecessors, who saw the 
races of men passing in a black and cease- 
less procession down to the gates of ever- 
lasting despair, save only the very narrow 
percentage of those who had openly 
accepted the hopes of the Gospel. God as 
a Father was to them hidden behind God 
as a Governor, stern and exacting. The 
mercy that endureth forever was over- 
looked or forgotten. The physical was 
thought to be itself evil or the great 
source of evil and was lightly esteemed. 

We have come to an age in which the 
whole man is regarded as sacred and to 
be cared for and developed as a child of 
God. As a result the object of all mission 
work in our day, home and foreign, in the 

208 



Days at Clifton Springs 

slums and among the islands of the sea, is 
to uplift man in his entire being and in all 
his surroundings, giving the clean hands 
and the pure heart, the Christian home 
and the just government. This is what 
the Gospel means to us. No one can ap- 
preciate the change who has not shared 
the old and the new and felt the emotions 
engendered by both. Personally I am 
grateful for the progress which I have 
been permitted to witness and to share. 

After toil comes rest, and it is more and 
more coveted as time hurries on. "Twi- 
light Best," the name with which we 
christened our home seems to me increas- 
ingly appropriate. I begin to realize that 
the soft soothing light of the later after- 
noon is about me. Tranquillity reigns, 
and peace. Even the clamors of the great 
war fail to excite me as did the Civil 
War and the Spanish-American con- 
flict. Yet I should love to live long enough 
to see certain things accomplished. Among 
these is the overthrow of militarism and 
tyranny and the establishment of the peo- 
ple everywhere in the peaceful possession 
of their rights. Another thing is the ad- 
justment of the capital-labor question, 
changing the great contrasts now existing 
in society into conditions favorable to the 

209 



Experiences and Observations 

comfort and contentment of all. And then 
I should love to witness that Christian 
unity of which so much is said, not neces- 
sarily church unity, for I believe that de- 
nominational differences are grounded in 
divinely created human constitutions. I 
long to see every church recognize every 
other as its equal, leaving the members of 
each to decide for themselves the ques- 
tions of faith or polity that now separate 
God's children. Oh, well, I believe that 
these and all good things will come when 
the world is ready for them. If we do not 
see them here, we may be permitted to be- 
hold them from some higher sphere of 
existence. 

As I look backward the eastern hills are 
still aglow with the sunlight. Not yet 
through the deepening shadows of the 
west do I discern the evening star, but 
soon, no doubt, its point of light will 
pierce the gathering gloom. I remember 
that One said, "I am the bright, the morn- 
ing star." And I also remember that in 
our visible heavens the morning star of 
one date becomes the evening star of an- 
other. May it not be thus in spiritual 
realms? My twilight would indeed be 
dark and forbidding, did I not believe that 
that "Star out of Jacob," which the seer 

210 



Days at Clifton Springs 

of old beheld, would illumine it, and that 
the "Star of Bethlehem' ' would guide, not 
to the manger, but to the foot of the 
Throne occupied today by Him who has 
"all power in heaven and on earth.' ' 



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